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McLELL AN'S 



JOURNAL AND MEMOIR 



JOURNAL 

OF A 

RESIDENCE IN SCOTLAND, 

AND • 

TOUR THROUGH ENGLAND, FRANCE, GERMANY, 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY, 

WITH A 

MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR, 

AND 

EXTRACTS FROM HIS RELIGIOUS PAPERS. 

COMPILED FROM THE MANUSCRIPTS OF THE LATE 

HENRY B.i\lcLELLAN. 
n 



BY I. McLELLAN, Jr. 




BOSTON: 
ALLEN AND TICKNOR. 

1834. 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1834, 

By Allen and Ticknor, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Massachusetts. 



/-" 



boston: 
tuttle and weeks, printers. 



?v 



H7 



REV. JOHN CODMAN, D . D . 

2Tj)fs ITolume, 

AS A SLIGHT TESTIMONIAL OF ESTEEM, 

IS RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED, 



THE EDITOR. 



PREFACE 



If any apology is required for the publication of this 
volume, we think it may be found, not only in the 
affection which the friends of the subject of this memoir 
felt towards him, and their sense of his estimable 
character, but also in the intrinsic interest of the 
journal itself. We hope, however, that much will 
be pardoned to private affection, if it has erred in thus 
endeavoring to preserve some relic of one so early 
removed from life. It was hoped that an exhibition of 
the spirit and temper of one who in the course of a very 
short life endeared himself to so many both here and in 
a foreign land, would be useful. And it was at the 
earnest desire of many of these friends, who wished that 
the image of one so happy in his moral and intellectual 
structure, might for a while be preserved from forget- 
fulness, that we were chiefly led to this publication. 
We have believed that this work will be received with 
interest by the religious world, and be especially useful 
to young students in theology. Many such have been 
nearly connected with Henry in the bonds of friendship 



Vlll PREFACE. 

and scholarship, and with them at least we trust it will 
find favor. The life of a retired young man passed in 
literary and religious study, and closing before the 
full bloom of manhood had been attained, cannot, it is 
true, present many incidents of general interest. Yet 
to many, such an exhibition is agreeable, as presenting 
the gradual unfolding of a tender mind, deeply imbued 
with the love of literary and sacred study, and holding 
forth a fair promise of usefulness, were the flexile shoot 
ever permitted to acquire the fulness and strength of 
maturity. 

The materials for this work have been most abundant. 
Though the author died so young, he left behind 
manuscripts which would fill volumes. From these, it 
has been a task of no little difficulty to make selections, 
and from these we have generally been able to give only 
short extracts. The journal kept in Edinburgh, and 
during the tour in Europe, which forms a large portion 
of the volume, was written during the haste of trav- 
elling, without any view to publication (with the 
exception of two or three chapters written after his 
return,) and without revision from the author. The 
editor has used great care in the selection and arrange- 
ment of these papers, and retained only those parts 
which seemed to him to be the most interesting. The 
writer was brought much into contact with gentlemen 
of high literary standing while abroad, and his sketches 
of his frequent conversations with them are very full 
and minute. These we have retained with little alter- 



PREFACE. IX 

ation, as they frequently relate to this country, and as 
they serve to show in what estimation we are held by 
men of high standing and intellect abroad, and may 
correct also some erroneous notions that prevail here in 
regard to them. 

Notwithstanding the severe and oftentimes coarse 
manner in which we have been treated by British 
travellers, and which has produced much ill feeling on 
each side of the Atlantic, it will be perceived that a 
most kindly and cordial sentiment towards this country 
prevails, among many of our well-informed transatlantic 
brethren. It will also be seen that a great proportion of 
them are entirely ignorant of the real state of things 
in this country. The bitter sarcasms, gross misrepre- 
sentations, and coarse invectives of some few indi- 
viduals, have no doubt had their intended effect in 
producing abroad much contempt for our laws, manners 
and institutions, and corresponding resentment and 
dislike on our part ; yet still it will be perceived that 
such works are not received without some distrust 
abroad, and that many are shrewd enough to detect the 
cheat, and independent enough to think and judge for 
themselves. Such works serve only to widen the breach 
already existing between us and the mother country; 
and while they sharpen the sight of each to detect the 
deformities of the other, render them equally blind to 
each other's perfections. We are not a little surprised 
that the work of Col. Hamilton contains such severe 
strictures upon this country. We had anticipated dif- 



X PREFACE. 

ferent treatment at his hands. Henry had the honor of 
a persona] acquaintance with him, and his impressions 
(as we infer from allusions to him in his letters) of him 
were, that his work on this country would be decidedly 
favorable to us. We have in our possession a letter 
from him to Henry, in which he alludes to gen- 
tlemen of this city in the warmest terms of commen- 
dation ; and yet we should infer from his work that to 
his eyes this country was to him " barren all, barren 
all." We should almost have hoped that his many 
personal friendships would have softened his political 
enmities. 

We have believed that the Journal of the residence in 
Scotland will not be uninteresting to the general reader. 
For no people do we feel a higher respect and more sin- 
cere affection than for the noble and warm-hearted Scotch. 
Their great novelist has made us acquainted with them 
all, from the Pentland Frith to the Mull of Galloway. 
The pulse quickens, and the heart warms at the very 
mention of the silver Tweed, Loch Ketturin, Loch 
Awe, Loch Fyne and Loch Tay, Ben Venue, Ben 
Nevis, Ben Voirlich, and all the wild hills of the 
Grampians ! Henry was among them during an inter- 
esting period, when the great question of Reform was 
agitating every bosom in Scotland. It was the all 
absorbing topic of interest and conversation ; and what- 
ever is said in relation to its operation upon men, 
proceeding from one who could regard it dispassionately, 
cannot be without interest. He was also fortunate in 



PREFACE. XI 

visiting France at an interesting period. Political 

convulsions were also agitating that country, and he had 

a favorable opportunity of comparing a monarchical 

government with that of a free republic, in the tumult 

that attended and followed the funeral of Gen. La 

Marque. 

The tour in Italy, also, we hope will be read with 

pleasure, by the many admirers of that land of song and 

glory. Though no longer an independent and gallant 

nation, the memory of its past magnificence so strikingly 

contrasted with its present degradation, renders it an 

interesting spot to the scholar and the philosopher ; and 

though often described by modern travellers, we can 

always recur to it with unabated interest. We have 

omitted however, in the part of the journal which 

relates to that country, numerous passages descriptive of 

its ancient and modern palaces and cathedrals, and 

many minute criticisms of paintings and statuary. We 

now leave the work with the public, only regretting that 

it had not been entrusted to abler and more experienced 

hands than our own. 

Editor. 

Boston, March I, 1834. 



CONTENTS. 



Page. 

MEMOIR " . 1 

CHAPTER I. 

A Trip up the Hudson to West Point — Voyage from New York to 
Liverpool. 85 

CHAPTER II. 

Arrival in the Mersey — Liverpool — Eagle Hotel at Liverpool — The 
Adelphi — Carriages — Cemetery at Liverpool — Society at Liver- 
pool — Public Buildings — Nelson's Monument — Custom House — 
Markets 92 

CHAPTER III. 

Omnibus — Liverpool Rail-way— Porters— Manchester — Mercantile 
Agents — Reform — Manufactories — Cathedral — Chapel — Waiters — 
English Villages — Bolton — Factories — Lancaster. . . . 103 

CHAPTER IV. 

Carlisle — Clergy — Gretna Green — The Scottish Border — Entrance 
into Edinburgh — Memoirs of Mrs Huntington — Prince Street— 
Calton Hill— Lodgings 124 

CHAPTER V. 

A Scotch Breakfast — Streets and Squares — Dr Chalmers — Scotch 
Dinner — American Ladies— Reform- — Slavery — Church— Dr Chan- 
ning — Tour to the Lakes—Fish-women — Sail to Stirling. . . 131 

CHAPTER VI. 

The Ochils— Stirling— The Trosachs— Loch Ketturin-*-Ben Lomond 
—Dunbarton— Glasgow— Dr Wardlaw — The Universitv. . 151 

A* 



Xiv CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER VII. 

Chantrey's Statue of George IV.— Holyrood Abbey— Dalkeith— 
Holyrood Castle — New Year's Day — Religion in Scotland — Dud- 

ington Loch — High Church — Rev. Mr G y— Royal Institution 

— Calton Hill— Sessional School— Blind Boy — Prince street. . 160 

CHAPTER VIII. 

Ireland — Catholicism — Butler— Craig Leith Quarry — Rev. Mr Craig 
— Episcopal Church— Arthur's Seat — Parliament House— Liberton 
— Ordination — Catholic Church — St George's Church — Mr Harvey 
the Artist— The Prison— Royal Museum — Muschat's Cairn. . 182 

CHAPTER IX. 

Imperfect Knowledge of America abroad— Professor Stuart — Scotch 
Ladies — Craigmiller Castle — St George's Church — Infant School — 
Dr Chalmers — Harvey — i^necdote — St Paul's — Lecture Room. 196 

CHAPTER X. 

Professor Wilson — Emancipation — The General Assembly — Rev. 
Edward Irving — Cholera — Ex-King of France— Roslin Castle — 
Hawthornden — Jewish Synagogue. . . . . . . 205 

CHAPTER XI. 

Professor Wilson — Bryant's Poems — American Writers — Scenery — 
Dr Chalmers — High Church — Lord chief Justice Clerk — Professor 
Hope .214 

CHAPTER XII. 

The Author of Mansie Wauch— Melrose Abbey— Abbotsford. . 221 

CHAPTER XIII. 

River Thames— London — Thames Tunnel — Westminster Abbey — 
Lord Chancellor Brougham — Coleridge — Rev. Edward Irving — 
Catholic Church — Bishop of Calcutta— Leaves London — Dover. 227 

CHAPTER xiv. 

Route from Calais to Paris — Pere la Chaise— Funeral of Cuvier — 
Casemir Perrier — St Cloud — Burial of Gen. La Marque— Disturb- 
ances 237 



CONTENTS. XV 

CHAPTER XV. 

French Language — Review of National Guard — Garden of the Tuil- 
eries — The Institute — Rue St Honore — Shows — Say — Fourth of 
July — Chateau de St Germain — A Week at La Grange — Leaves 
Paris 250 

CHAPTER XVI. 

Route from Paris to Brussels — Brussels — Place Royal — St Gudule 
— King Leopold — Mr Cooper — Antwerp — Aix la Chapel le — Co- 
logne — The Rhine — Boom — Lake of the Four Cantons — Tell's 
Chapel — Lake Brieuzer — Interlacken. . . . . » 263 

CHAPTER XVII. 

Mount Blanc — Geneva — Dr Malan — Scenery — Milan — Cathedral — 
Verona — Romeo and Juliet's Tomb — Venice — Greek Church — Pi- 
azza di St Marco — Route from Venice to Bologna — University — 
Veturino— Monte di Fo 278 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

Approach to Florence — Catholic Church — Church of England — 
Ducal Palace — Pitti Palace — Michael Angelo — Leaves Florence 
for Rome — Scenery — Peasantry — Ancient Temple — Falls of Terni 
— Rome — Antonine Column — The Pantheon — Forum — Colosseum. 288 

CHAPTER XIX. 

The Pope— The Capitol— Adrian's Villa— Terni— The House of 
Maecenas — The Vatican — Museum of the Capitol — Lucien Bona- 
parte — The Catacombs — Villa Borghese— The Ancient City — 
Thorwalsden's Studio — St Paul's — St Augustine — Leaves Rome for 
Pisa — Peasantry — Villages — Religion— Ronciglione — Siena — Pisa 
— Leaning Tower — The Duomo of Pisa— 'Leaves Pisa for Genoa 
— Sestris — Peasantry — Genoa 305 

CHAPTER XX. 

Genoa— Streets— Palaces— The Theatre— Palazzo Durazzo— The 
University — The Church Annunziata — Santa Maria — Leaves Turin 
for Chambery, on his Return to France— Passage of Mount Cenis 
— Leaves Chambery, and arrives at Pont de Beauvoisin, the French 
Frontier-house — Leaves Lyons for Chalons — River Saone — Macon 
—Leaves for Paris — The Siene — Havre — Leaves for England. 325 



XVI CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER XXI. 

Arrives at Southampton — An Election Scene — Salisbury — C hairing 
a Candidate — Stonehenge — Scenery — Bath — Route from Oxford- 
University — S tratford-on-Avon — Shakspeare's House — Birming- 
ham — Liverpool — Dublin — Belfast — Returns to Edinburgh. 334 

CHAPTER XXII. 

Mr O s — Sacrament — A Dinner Party — Professor Wilson — The 

Opium Eater — Mr Hamilton — Dr Chalmers — America — British 
Travellers in America — Established Church — Reform — Fellowships 
— Professor Wilson's Family— Leaves Edinburgh for Liverpool 
Mr Southey, Mr Wordsworth — Extract from Journal of Voyage 
to New York. . i 346 

ADDRESS. 361 

SERMON. .......;.. 366 

LETTERS 372 



MEMOIR 



HENRY BLAKE McLELLAN 



Every day of human life brings with it a new sorrow, 
every week a fresh affliction. Our condition and allot- 
ment is a constant succession of change, where adversity 
and death quickly efface the brighter characters of 
joy and pleasure ; although, to the Christian, " all things 
work together for his good." The unseen but fatal 
shaft is forever falling among the multitude of men, and 
those who escape it for the time, are too apt to congratu- 
late themselves on their happy fortune ; they almost 
believe themselves to bear a charmed life, and scarcely 
appear to notice who are the victims, or soon forget the 
solemn warning. The vanities of the world spring up in 
their bosoms like weeds, and soon choke the good fruits 
of the salutary and solemn lesson planted there by a be- 
reaving providence. But it is not well or natural thus to 
suffer the memory of our friends so soon to be obliterated 
in our hearts. There is a pleasing sorrow in recalling to 
mind even the look, voice, or gesture of the departed ; 
there is a melancholy pleasure in the remembrance of his 
virtues ; there is unmingled blessedness in the belief that 
he was a follower of Jesus, and is now gone to be forever 
with the Lord. 

1 



52 MEMOIR. 

As often as the sad privilege is afforded us of recording 
the departure of a christian friend from the trials of this 
world, we shed a new ray into the gloom of the grave, 
and fix more legibly upon the tomb, the Christian's motto, 
" Death is swallowed up in victory." 

In speaking of that christian friend, who is the subject 
of these remarks, we feel that we shall do no violation to 
truth or propriety, when we speak of the goodness of his 
heart, the purity of his life, the cultivation of his mind, 
or the fervor and sincerity of his devotion. The near 
relationship subsisting between the writer and the sub- 
ject of this memoir, renders the task of recording his 
worth one of peculiar delicacy. Yet he humbly hopes 
and believes that his affectionate regard will be so regu- 
lated by a just moderation, that he shall not be betrayed 
into unwarrantable praise. It is our design simply before 
we present his journal, to speak, with the privilege of a 
brother, a few words concerning his character and history. 
Our notice will be succeeded by a sketch of some traits 
in his religious experience. This will be followed by 
extracts from his letters and religious papers, with ac- 
companying remarks. 

The subject of this memoir was born at Maidstone, in 
Essex county, Vermont, the 16th of September, A. D. 
1810. He was the son of Isaac and Eliza McLellan, of 
Boston ; and a grandson of the late General William Hull, 
of Newton, Mass. After a preparatory course of study at 
the Latin school in Boston, he entered Harvard Univer- 
sity in 1825, and received his degree in 1829. Since his 
decease we have received a letter from one of his class- 
mates, who speaks of his college life in the following terms. 
" His whole college career was independent, manly, hon- 
orable: he withstood the temptations of the place with a 



MEMOIR. o 

determined principle, and yet I never heard of an indi- 
vidual refusing him the praise of perfect generosity, ready 
sympathy, and open-hearted ness, qualities which they are 
too apt to attribute exclusively to the dissipated and 
lawless. He made many friends ; he improved in know- 
ledge of the world and mankind, and he cultivated the 
belles-lettres departments of literature. " 

We had much conversation with him several months 
before he left college, on his choice of a profession, and 
he always appeared extremely solicitous to make a judi- 
cious selection. He fully felt the importance of the 
decision, which was to determine the character of his 
future life. He felt that he was about to enter upon new 
scenes ; with new trials to encounter, and new tempta- 
tions to overcome. 

The choice of his profession was directed, under God, 
by the Rev. Mr Green, then pastor of the Union Essex 
street Church, in this city, by whose advice it was that 
Henry first studied at Andover. Mr G. esteemed that to 
be his best course, in the hope, (afterwards, through the 
great mercy of God, happily realized,) that it might prove 
the means which the Holy Spirit would use, to lead 
him to a consecration of his life to the service of his 
Saviour. Accordingly, though not then indulging a 
christian hope, he went to reside at Andover for a time, 
with a view merely to the pursuit of theology as a 
scientific study. There, we have reason to believe, the 
Holy Spirit met him, convicted him of guilt, and brought 
him to a penitent acceptance of that Saviour, who is 
" the propitiation for our sins, and not for ours only, but 
also for the sins of the whole world." There, we trust, 
he was led to that surrender of himself to Christ, and 
that consecration of life to his service, for which his 
beloved pastor hoped and prayed. It was a blessed 



4 MEMOIR. 

change to himself and to all who knew him. The 
kindness of his heart, and the sweetness of his dispo- 
sition continued to endear him more and more, during 
this regeneration in his feelings, to his old friends, 
while the change added many new christian friends to 
the number. Amiable as he was before, this religious 
change made him still more amiable and affectionate. 
He did not think a severe and repulsive demeanor to be 
an indication of religious feeling. He believed that real 
religion, in regenerating the feelings, infuses into them a 
happy expression. He thought it a duty always to appear 
with christian serenity and cheerfulness. When we 
look around upon the circle of his and our youthful 
friends, we cannot perceive a more buoyant spirit than 
his, or a disposition so overflowing with cheerfulness and 
good-humor. 

Henry was a severe applicant to study, being fully 
impressed with the value of his time, and the importance 
of a careful preparation for the great duties of the profes- 
sion, to which he was about to devote himself. Endowed 
by nature with a sound and vigorous mind, he improved 
it by studies well chosen, and diligently pursued. At the 
same time his attention to religious exercises and studies 
was most devoted ; and the ardor of his piety became 
more and more fervent, as his letters written at that time 
sufficiently show. 

After he had spent two years in study at Andover, 
he expressed a wish to complete his course at some for- 
eign seminary, believing that his mind would be improved 
and enlarged by study and observation abroad, and his 
future usefulness thereby be increased. After much 
deliberation, and advice from his friends at Andover and 
at home, he concluded to go. Accordingly he sailed from 
New York on the 16th of September, 1831, (his birth- 



MEMOIR. 5 

day,) and arrived safely at Liverpool in October, and 
immediately re-commenced his studies at the University 
at Edinburgh. He attended the course of lectures 
there, during the following winter. v In the spring vis- I 
ited the Continent, and travelled through France, Ger- 
many, Switzerland and Italy, returning again at the 
close of the year to Scotland, where he passed another 
winter.* Of the kindness and hospitality he everywhere 
met with, especially in Scotland, he constantly spoke in 
the warmest and most heartfelt terms. His journal over- 
flows with acknowledgments of the great kindness and 
hospitality that, were heaped upon him. Even in the 
delirium of his fatal sickness, his thoughts and affections 
returned to those scenes so dear to him. The names of 
his many friends there were often on his dying lips. If 
many of them who have written to, and concerning him, 
were of his own immediate family, their language could 
not have been more endearing and affectionate. Indeed 
he often remarked that Dr Chalmers, Professor Wilson, 
and many distinguished and excellent men, treated him 
rather like a son than a stranger from a strange land. 

Henry left Liverpool for New York, on his return, on 
the 18th of April, 1832, and reached his home in Boston, 
on the 12th of June. A great portion of the two months 
that intervened between this period and his sickness was 
spent in visits to Andover, Cambridge, and with his 
esteemed friend, Dr Codman of Dorchester. His leisure 
hours were employed in study, and in preparing for the 
press a work on Scotland, which, so far as completed by 
him, forms the commencement of this Journal. The 
remainder of his diary kept by him in Edinburgh, and 
the journal of his tour on the continent, which composes 
the greater part of this volume, bears throughout evident 
marks of a hasty pen. It is clear that these notes did 
1* 



6 MEMOIR. 

not receive from him a second perusal ; as words in them 
are often omitted, which on a careful re-perusal would 
have been supplied. Incomplete sentences have fre- 
quently been met with by the editor, which would have 
been corrected by him, had the author given his notes a 
second reading. To show in what haste the journal 
was written, we copy a short extract from one of his 
letters to his friends. " I suppose you have received my 
poor journal. I am almost sorry that I sent it, for what 
criticisms must it not undergo ! But you must not forget 
that it was often the work of a hasty minute, and often 
written after the weariness of study, at the midnight 
hour. But such as it is, keep it ; it will serve hereafter 
as a kind of text-book to remind me of hours and friends 
that will be to me no more, except in memory. It will 
serve as a nucleus around which many conversations may 
cluster, during that period which I hope to pass in your 
society, before commencing the active and responsible 
duties of my profession." 

Also at the close of one of his journals, he writes thus : 
" I hope, my dear parents, that you will be able to read 
these rude notes, from which, together with what I have 
in my possession, I hope to collect matter sufficient to 
make a little volume for your amusement, should God 
ever permit me to return and form one of your happy 
circle ; for which cause, if for no intrinsic merit which 
this unshaped mass, hurriedly written, often after the 
midnight hour had elapsed, possesses, I hope you will 
preserve these pages. 

" P. S. You will perceive I have not maintained the 
purpose with which I originally commenced this journal. 
I began it for myself, but decided to finish it for you, 
and therefore departed from my original design." 

Henry's illness commenced during the early part of 



MEMOIR. ' 

August, about eight weeks after his return. He was at 
first but slightly indisposed, and continued so for a few 
days, without any material or alarming increase of his 
malady, till at length, very suddenly, the symptoms of 
the typhus fever of the severest character, manifested 
themselves, in all their prostrating virulence. He was 
favored with a sound constitution, which for a time re- 
sisted that most powerful but insidious disorder; but 
finally, after an illness of four weeks, his strength gave 
w T ay, and in the twentythird year of his age, he breathed 
his last. During his illness, he labored under an almost 
constant delirium, the common attendant of his disease, 
which rendered him almost insensible to the kind offices 
and sympathies, that tend so much to smooth the path to 
the grave. Indeed he never fully regained his reasoning 
faculties, after the fever seized him. Yet his death was 
most peaceful, without the racking pains that often 
attend the separation of soul and body. His poor weak 
tenement of clay had been too rudely shattered to its 
foundations, to be ever again re-established ; and he 
passed away from life, as it were like one who sinks at 
night, after the fatigues of a long and busy day, into a 
profound and tranquil slumber. But his friends humbly 
believe, that though unconscious of his state, he was not 
unprepared for his departure. 

They believe that his emancipated spirit is now re- 
joicing in the holiness of Heaven. And while they have 
mourned over their heavy bereavement they have felt this 
a comfort in their grief. The idea of his happiness in 
Heaven, has mingled itself constantly with a sense of their 
loss. It has made them feel that there is a blessed con- 
solation, in mourning the departure of a christian friend 
and relative, who forms another tie to Heaven, and whose 
removal should quicken them to new exertions, to follow in 



8 MEMOIR. 

the blessed path again opened to their view. Considering 
this event as Christians, they feel that Henry was prepared, 
by the grace of Christ through the Holy Spirit, for a 
higher sphere of action, for holier and more extended 
employments. Into the company of the redeemed they 
believe that he has entered ; and for him, who can regret 
the exchange ? 

A very intimate friend of Henry, Professor Smith, of 
Waterville College, writes as follows, concerning some 
traits of his religious experience. Another of his friends 
has kindly assisted us in the arrangement of his religious 
papers. 

" I was acquainted with Henry from his childhood. We 
received at the same school the rudiments of knowledge ; 
at Cambridge we pursued together our higher studies, 
and our professional course was spent at Andover, until, 
in the close of the second year, he left me for his Euro- 
pean voyage. We often conversed on our destination to 
labor in the cause of the church ; and, so far as I know, 
it was to myself first of all, that he unbosomed the history 
of the commencement and progress of his faith and 
piety. I shall never forget the afternoon, when he freely 
opened to me the state of his religious feelings. Al- 
though I had often prayed for him, and sometimes con- 
versed with him on the importance of personal piety, I 
was by no means prepared for so joyous a developement. 
It was near sunset, in a cold November day. The 
advance of autumn had shed a melancholy hue over 
everything around ; but the clear sun and the pure sky 
were as enchanting as in mid-summer. It was a pleas- 
ing emblem of the emotions expressed by Henry. There 
was visible in his mind a feeling of sorrow and gloom, 
that he had so long deferred attention to the grand 
object of existence ; and yet a grateful joy, that he was 



MEMOIR. 9 

now delivered from the bondage of sin, and introduced 
into the liberty of the sons of God. We conversed 
awhile, on religious things with a sympathetic joy known 
only to the soul that has felt it — an emotion very natural, 
when it is remembered that this was our first interview 
after his conversion. I had not imagined before, that he 
had experienced the renovating energies of the Holy 
Spirit. We read together a few verses from the word of 
life, which to him also had now become a mine of wealth. 
Before we parted, we knelt down together to give 
thanks to the Father of Spirits, for the hope we now 
cherished that we had been alike washed from our 
pollution, and that our sins were forgiven through the 
blood of his Son. 

" From that afternoon, I watched with great interest 
the progress of his religious life. I had become well ac- 
quainted with the peculiar mould and conformation of his 
natural character, and I felt desirous of knowing what 
effects the change he had experienced would produce, in 
modifying the developeraents of such a mind. 

" In drawing Henry's portrait, as a Christian, it will 
therefore not be amiss for me to enumerate what always 
seemed to me some of his peculiar traits of character — 
the influence of religion upon which, I wished to discern. 
These were energy, decision, self-confidence, manliness, 
thought, and perhaps I should add, kindness, respect to 
those older than himself, and filial affection. My ac- 
quaintance with hirn both before and subsequent to his 
conversion will perhaps enable me to state some of the 
leading points of his christian character with a consider- 
able degree of accuracy. 

" The influence of religion on Henry — both in mind 
and conduct — internal and external, — was very great. 
Although he naturally possessed a kind and affectionate 



10 MEMOIR. 

spirit — evinced especially in the family circle and to 
the watchings of parental solicitude, — yet even that cir- 
cle and those parents could not but feel that, through the 
agency of divine grace, * all things had become new.' 
When the native depravity of the soul is subdued by the 
operations of the Holy Spirit, and the teachings of him 
who was ' meek and lowly in heart ' begin to exert an 
influence upon the mind, even the loveliest of our race 
grow lovelier ; the kindest, more kind ; and the best, 
more worthy of our admiration and esteem. 

" The first characteristic of Henry, as a Christian, 
which deserves to be mentioned is humility. I name this 
first in the catalogue, because I place it uniformly, in my 
contemplations, at the head of the christian graces. 
Others are necessary, to sustain the servant of God in 
the duties of his station, and to make him a pattern wor- 
thy of all imitation; but this so truly breathes the very 
spirit, and bears the very likeness of the Redeemer of 
men, that it seems the sweetest and brightest of the train. 
To a person who knew but little of our departed friend, 
and who should only meet him in casual, literary, or even 
theological conversations, this trait might be less obvious. 
But there is an hour, when the soul throws off her reserve ; 
when the watchfulness and accuracy of gait and position, 
which are necessary before the world, are laid aside ; 
when man appears just as he is in reality. It is the hour 
of communion with God. In the prayers of Henry in 
our social circles, all marked the deep, chastened lowli- 
ness of feeling — the self-abasement — the sense of un- 
worthiness — the entire and absolute reliance of spirit on 
God, which he ever manifested. His manner, his words, 
the very tones of his voice were all those of the humble 
suppliant, conscious that he has no claim upon God for 
blessings, but meekly entreating for them, in the name of 



MEMOIR. 11 

his Son. This characteristic was the more remarkable, 
because there was, both in the appearance and conversa- 
tion of Henry, an unusual dignity, which to those least 
acquainted with him, seemed to express too much of 
stiffness, to be lowly. But let a Christian — let any one 
witness him in his moments of intercourse with God, 
pouring out his warm desires into the ear of his Father 
in heaven ; and I am sure this feeling would vanish, like 
the mists of the morning. 

" His humility was also observable in his investigations 
of christian doctrine. Ever distrustful of himself, he 
was ready to yield himself up, to be guided by those who 
had more experience than himself. And, although it 
would be wrong to charge him with a servile submission 
to the opinions of other men, yet his fellow students at 
Andover will long remember the peculiar deference and 
respect, with which he viewed the sentiments of his in- 
structed. This was, indeed, in some sense, to be 
expected. Before his conversion, he had paid but little 
attention to religious discussions. 

" Another characteristic of Henry was firmness. This 
was, indeed, a conspicuous element of his mental consti- 
tution before his conversion. But afterwards, it led 
him finally and conscientiously to pursue what seemed 
to be the path of rectitude, whatever might come in his 
way. This trait is the more to be valued for two rea- 
sons — first, that it is so uncommon, even among Chris- 
tians, and secondly, that it is vital to advancement in 
piety. Without a firm and steadfast determination, in 
the strength of God, to make progress in piety, in 
despite of whatever arises to retard the soul, no man 
will ever become eminent in holiness. We never accom- 
plish any valuable undertaking, unless we first settle it 
in our minds, that we will effect our object, and then enter 



12 MEMOIR. 

perseveringly on the course we have thus marked out. 
Such seems to have been the order of Henry's emotions ; 
and pursuing this train, he stands out from the world as 
an example to be imitated. 

" As a result of the preceding item, it deserves to be 
noticed, that his growth in piety was uncommonly rapid. 
His incipient faith was, emphatically a commencing with 
the first principles of the doctrines of Christ. But that 
progress, once begun, was a progress towards perfection. 
For some time before his tour in Europe, and with some 
trifling exceptions, after his return, we were necessarily 
separated. I could not, therefore, judge so easily of the 
attainments he made after he left the divinity school at 
Andover. But since his death, on meeting with the cov- 
enant between himself and God, which he wrote at 
Edinburgh, I was astonished to find he had gained, 
every way, such maturity. The clearness of thought, 
the richness, simplicity and propriety of language, 
which characterize that article, are worthy of one, who 
had been l walking with God ' many years. His letters 
from the continent, especially those of a religious char- 
acter, which he had designed only for the sanctuary of a 
mother's heart, breathe the same spirit of growing piety. 
He evidently spent much time, while in Europe, in devout 
self-examination, meditation and prayer. His Bible, with 
its ' pencilled passages' on almost every page, bears 
witness to the thoughtfulness with which he perused it. 
Or perhaps we may regard his pencillings as signal-posts, 
which he set up to remind him afterwards, that he had 
discovered there 'a pearl of great price ' — a mine of 
precious treasure — a medium of unusual and blissful 
intercourse with his Father, God. 

" That he was able, not only to stand unshaken in his 
faith, but even to advance so rapidly in piety, amid all 



MEMOIR. 13 

the temptations of foreign luxury and foreign refinement 
is as cheering as it is astonishing. It is a cause for 
devout gratitude to that God, whose arm was thus ex- 
tended for his support, and whose light was shed down 
for his guidance. In his case, we have abundant illustra- 
tion of the truth, that holiness depends not on external 
circumstances. Every Christian is under infinite obliga- 
tions to be eminently devoted to Christ ; and he is 
inexcusably guilty for not being so. It is personal piety 
alone, which will avail to sustain us in the hour of 
nature's sorrow. And on personal effort and exertion, 
as inwrought and guided by the Holy Spirit, does it 
depend, whether every man shall be 'perfect in Christ 
Jesus.' 

" It is matter of sincere regret that Henry enjoyed the 
light of reason only for very brief intervals during his 
illness. But we have abundant joy in knowing that a 
man's piety is far more safely tested by a holy life, than 
by a triumphant death. Occasionally during his illness, 
he seemed to wake from his wanderings ; and then 
religion was his theme — self-examination, self-abase- 
ment, and firm confidence in the Redeemer. In his 
delirium, too, it was frequently apparent, that although 
reason had forsaken her throne, yet that poor straying 
mind had fixed itself in the contemplation of holy things. 
At one time, he imagined himself conducting a religious 
meeting. At another, he uttered the most fervent and 
well-ordered prayers. And once, he seemed to suppose 
himself engaged in conversation, face to face, with that 
Saviour, ' whom having not seen, he loved.' All this 
sufficiently proves that he had a ' ruling passion ;' and 
that it was ' strong in death.' 

i: It is a providence too dark to be unravelled, why he 
should be taken from earth, when at the morning of his 
2 



14 MEMOIR. 

usefulness. He was expecting, just about the time of his 
death, to have received licensure, that he might go out 
before the world, as the accredited messenger of the 
of hosts. But he is not the only one, whom God 
has thus early summoned away to another world. We 
would bow to the divine will, in humble submission ; and 
feel assured, that when our Father takes away his people 
from the imperfect services of earth, it is only that he 
may employ them in the purer and more perfect services 
of heaven." 

We venture here to insert these humble tributary 
verses, trusting that the sincere feeling which dictated 
them will in some degree excuse their imperfection. 

How oft the jocund merriment of the soul 
Is overcast by sorrow's stormy gloom ! 
How oft is pleasure's brimming chalice drugged 
With misery. And grief's regretful tear 
On glory's golden altar shed ! the sob 
Is oft the echo to the singer's mirth, 
And pain's half-smothered groan falls on the ear 
Like a reproach, when hearts and hopes are high, 
And man's rejoicing voice exults triumphantly. 

The verdant wreath that nods on Spring's white brow, 
And the thick garlands that old Autumn hangs 
High in his dim and awful palaces, 
Teach lessons to the pride and pomp of man. 
Those leaves on which the yellow sunbeams pour 
Their blushing hues, and which the seraph Night 
Forever succors with her nourishing dews, 
Have but a brief existence — they all lay 
Their pomp aside, and pine, and quickly pass away. 

Time's flying wheel leaves little trace behind ! 
The stars and yellow moon do fade away ! 
Day sinks in darkness, darkness into death, 
" Death into silence." The ricJi pearl of life, 



MEMOIR. 15 

Soon moulders in its blackened urn, the tomb. 
E'en while you mark the wavering flame that lights 
The snowy whiteness of consumption's cheek, 
Death checks life's scanty current in its way, 
And the pure spirit leaves its tabernacle of clay ! 

E'en beauty mourns in her decaying bower, 
That time upon her angel brow should set 
His crooked autograph, and mar the jet 
Of glossy locks. Lo ! how her chaplet green, 
The hoar-frost and the canker-worm destroy. 
Decay's dull film obscures those matchless eyes, 
Tinct with rich azure, like two crystal wells 
That drink the blue complexion of the sky ; 
For in the church-yard's shadowy chamber beams no mortal eve. 

Life's golden cord is loosened, and the bowl 
Broken at the well ! — Oft the idle wind 
That laughs along man's morning path, doth chant 
A mournful dirge above his midnight grave ; 
And the gay flowers, that charmed him in the Spring 
Keep their lone watch beside his marble urn, 
Long ere the Autumn-time. Few are the days 
Allotted us to live ! — We yield our breath, 
And soon our mourning brethren join with us in death. 

Soon the pale scholar learneth that the star 
That lured him onward leadeth to the grave ; 
And that full many a dull and sombre stain, 
Is with life's gayer tissues deep inwrought. 
And thou, my brother, o'er thy human lore 
Hath ceased to cast the student's thoughtful eye ! 
Thou saw'st the sparkles in life's golden cup, 
And fain wouldst of its various sweets have quaffed, 
But never lived to taste the poison of the draught. 

I oft have sat, at that still hour, when slow 
From her dim hall, the purple twilight came 
And shut the shadowy landscape from the view, 
To mark the picture thy warm fancy drew 



16 MEMOIR. 

Of coming life — its triumphs and its joys. 
Alas, fond dreamer, all thy earthly hopes 
Are buried low beneath the church-yard stone, 
The crumbling mould is now thy narrow bed, 
And the tall church-yard tree waves mournfully o'er thy head. 

And can it be that on life's flinty way 
No more thy happy voice shall cheer me on ! 
Yes, the kind tones are smothered in the grave ; 
The gentle heart hath ceased fore'er to beat ; 
The healthy cheek hath lost its ruddy bloom ; 
And the pale brow hath yet a paler hue ; 
The beaming eye is darkened in decay ; 
And the pure breath hath left its mortal frame, 
As from the extinguished hearth-stone fails the living flame ! 

Thy parents hoped through many a long bright year, 
To walk with thee adown the vale of time, 
And from thy filial love support receive — 
They hoped around the cheerful winter fire, 
To hear thee tell thy foreign wanderings o'er, 
By Tweed's green shores, and down the golden Rhine; 
They hoped to hear their youthful preacher raise 
His suppliant voice within the house of prayer, 
And lead unto their God, the erring sinners there. 

I lately mused beside thy peaceful grave, 
In Auburn's sweet and consecrated shades ; 
'Twas Autumn, and a mellow sunset cast 
Its trembling smile along the golden woods, 
And silence waved her tranquillizing wing. 
There rose the beech-tree in its .dying pomp, 
The maple and the sumach clad in gold, 
The sycamore, in princely garments drcst 
And the pale silvery birch, kissed by the glowing west. 

As there I mused, methought how fit a spot 
To rest, when life's brief fitful fever ends ! 
There can the living stand with chastened minds, 
And in the vast cathedral of the woods, 



MEMOIR. 17 

Pour forth their sorrows o'er the dead around. 
As the dry leaves fell thickly round my feet 
They seemed fit emblems of man's dying lot; 
And solemn thoughts of mortal's common doom 
Sank deeply in my heart, beside man's silent tomb ! 

As long I traced the tablet o'er thee raised, 

The big tear came unbidden to mine eye, 

And thoughts of other times swept o'er my mind. 

I thought, dear Henry, of our boyish years, 
When life to us seemed all a merry day, 

— One round of joy, from morn till closing eve. 
Youth's rosy bloom, and childhood's gay delight, 
Each careless ramble, and each rural sport, 
Thronged in successive crowds, in memory's busy court ! 

II Friend of my youth ! with thee began my love 
For sacred song ; the wont in golden dreams. 
'Mid classic realms of splendors past to rove, 
O'er haunted steep, and by immortal streams," 
Now though thy mortal harp no more shall sound, 
Nor yield response to my fraternal strain, 

Yet sweet the thought, that in a better world, 
Thy sainted spirit strikes the seraph lyre 
In worship of thy God, with all the angelic choir! 



Few things, in the dispensations of God, seem more 
mysterious, than the removal of his servants from 
places of great usefulness, or in the prospect of occupy- 
ing such stations. He is constantly warning them, that 
he can act without them, and making them feel that he 
does not need their service, " being able out of stones to 
raise up children unto Abraham. 55 The highest degree 
of usefulness, or the best preparation for it, is therefore 
no security against an early and speedy removal. God 
not unfrequently selects his instruments, prepares them 
for labor, and then — lays them aside. He means to 
2* 



18 MEMOIR. 

teach them their dependance on him, to draw them from 
self-confidence, and to prevent them from looking to his 
instruments rather than to himself. He expends time, 
treasure, and the discipline of grace and providence 
apparently in fitting an individual to labor successfully 
for his beloved Son in a dying, sinful world, and then, 
oftentimes suddenly, he takes that individual to praise 
him in the world, where there is never death, nor sin, nor 
sorrow. 

Sometimes, as in the case of young Barr, God removes 
a missionary, just upon the eve of embarcation for his 
work of love and self-denial. Sometimes, as in the case 
of the lamented Dr Cornelius, he puts his churches into 
mourning for the sudden loss of one, whose presence 
seemed almost indispensable for the advancement of his 
kingdom. And these are not mere local, unusual por- 
tions of his dealings with the children of men. Wher- 
ever the gospel in the power of the Holy Ghost has been 
transforming lost sinners into living stones, polished after 
the similitude of a palace, and fitted for God's temple 
above, we behold these movements and manifestations of 
his sovereign glory. The death of Kaahumanu in the 
Sandwich Islands, or of Gregory Wort abet, or the per- 
secuted, probably martyred, Asaad Skidiak in Syria, was 
a movement of God's providence, quite as much en- 
veloped in mystery as the unexpected departure, in a 
christian land, of men amidst a life of such usefulness 
as that of Evarts or Cornelius. 

The unexpected death of Henry, so soon after his 
return from Europe, in health and animation, and full 
of christian hope, and just as he was entering on the 
delightful work of the ministry, is certainly an event 
hid in clouds and darkness. Expectations were fondly 
entertained, by those who knew and loved him, that God 



MEMOIR. 19 

would make him an instrument of great usefulness ; and 
earnest prayers were offered for his success in the work 
of preaching the gospeh When we think we are ear- 
nestly praying to the Lord of the harvest that he would 
send forth laborers into his harvest, it seems strange to us 
that the great Head of the Church should regard our 
prayers in a way so inscrutable. 

" And he, I trust, has answered prayer, 
But it has been in such a way 
As almost drove me to despair." 

The experience of the writer of that hymn, in the 
steps which the Lord took to humble him, and make him 
more a subject of grace, accords with all that we know 
of God's dealings both with churches and individuals; 
this designs are always full of mercy to all that love him, 
though the ways he takes to accomplish them, often to 
our feeble view, seem directly opposed to their accom- 
plishment ; his ways are not as our ways. By our sins 
we turn good into evil : but God turns evil into good, and 
causes the very clouds that we dread, to pour down bles- 
sings ; we shall see it, by and by, in great clearness, 
though now it looks dark. 

The language of Henry's beloved pastor, the Rev. 
Mr Green, in the following extract from a letter 
written not long after the death of the former, will be 
read with deep interest. Speaking of his early and un- 
expected departure, he says : 

" He was a youth whom I greatly loved and very highly 
esteemed, and from whom I anticipated no small amount of 
usefulness in the church and the world. The last interview 
I had with him was at Stoneham, during the latter part of 
July. It was our first and only meeting, after more than two 
years' separation ; and it was on the Sabbath day, and in the 
grace of God. I trust our next meeting will be in the upper 



20 MEMOIR. 

sanctuary, to spend an eternal Sabbath in praising the Lamb 
of God, who was slain for us. His step was then firm and 
manly, his countenance glowed with the freshness of youth, 
his eye beamed with intelligence and affection, and his inter- 
esting conversation gave me pleasing evidence that he had 
returned from his tour in Europe with a heart as firmly as 
ever devoted to the great and glorious purposes, to which he 
had for several years devoted body and soul. His amiable 
and affectionate manners won more strongly upon my heart 
than ever before, and I could not forbear to bless God for the 
prospective usefulness of this dear young brother. Dark and 
mysterious dispensation ! I hear you exclaim. Yes, dear 
madam, it certainly is to us very dark and mysterious. When 
God would represent in vision to Ezekiel his providential 
dealings with his afflicted people, there was not only a wheel 
within a wheel, but the wheel was so high that it was dreadful, 
' His ways are far above, out of our sight.' It is his purpose 
we should here live a life of faith, not of sight ; that as our 
affections fasten to the earth, they should be again and again 
broken off; that as we begin to build our tabernacles here, 
and dotingly gather up our comforts, as the heart is most prone 
to do, we should hear the monitory note often sounded 
6 arise, and depart ; for this is not your rest, because it is pol- 
luted.' Such have been the dispensations of God towards 
patriarchs, prophets, and holy men and women of all ages. 
Why should we complain of that discipline, which has the 
most direct tendency to purify us from sin, and transfer our 
affections to heaven, where all is enduring, perfect and glori- 
ous, and where we, if the children of God, shall soon be 
safely at home in our Father's house ? No, heaven is so 
desirable and glorious, and earth so empty, let Him strip and 
chastise as seemeth him good, provided we and ours may 
hereby be rendered meet for the inheritance of the saints in 
light. Thus, amid sharpest sorrows we may ' joy in God, and 
rejoice in the God of our salvation.' God grant this to be 
your blessed experience. ' Nature will have its first burst of 
sorrow,' but there are afterwards the peaceable fruits of 
righteousness to them that are exercised thereby. Rev. Leigh 



MEMOIR. 21 

Richmond buried a beloved son, whose death was blessed to 
the conversion of a number of his youthful companions. Of 
these converts he used to say, ' they were flowers which 
bloomed around the grave of his dear Willy.' Oh ! may the 
grave of your loved Henry be surrounded with such flowers, 
and may all his dear brothers and sisters be among them. 
What more delightful monument could he look down upon 
from the abodes of blessedness! What expression of loving 
remembrance so acceptable to his holy soul! I believe he 
was faithful to them while living, and should any of them 
remain unimpressed and unconverted, their meeting with him 
will be solemn and heart-rending, at the all revealing day." 

It was in accordance with Mr Green's suggestion and 
advice, that Henry first studied at Andover ; and that 
movement seems to have been used, in the wisdom and 
goodness of the spirit of God, as the means of leading 
him to the knowledge and love of his Redeemer. It was 
certainly a very critical season in his life, when he first 
visited the institution. It was during the last senior 
vacation at Cambridge, while yet a member of the 
University, " having no hope, and without God in the 
world"; with many prejudices, (of which he speaks in 
his letter to the committee of the church of which he 
was afterwards a member,) undetermined in the choice 
of his profession, and exposed to innumerable tempta- 
tions. In this situation he spent his first month at 
Andover. " It is his hope," Mr Green wrote, in a 
letter of introduction to one of the Professors, dated July 
20, 1829, " and the fervent prayer of his pious friends, 
that the holy influence of your seminary may be 
blessed to his everlasting good." It was not long before 
this hope, through the great mercy of the Lord, was 
realized. 

In a letter to the faculty of the Theological Seminary 
at Andover, written on occasion of leaving the institu- 



22 MEMOIR. 

tion for a foreign residence, Henry himself mentioned, 
particularly, the lectures he attended during his first 
visit to Andover, in the collegiate vacation referred to 
above, as the means, which "led him to pause " in his 
life of impenitence, and " seek there a knowledge of 
Jesus." At that time his convictions of guilt and danger 
led him to commence the form of secret prayer, though 
without the spirit of a penitent. He satisfied himself 
for a while in this way, " persuaded of the importance of 
religion, and determined to pass a year at Andover, in 
hopes it might be blessed to him," It was a great mercy 
that he was not left at that time to embrace and hold 
fast a delusive hope of piety. A visit to Brunswick 
proved the insincerity of his prayers, and the inefficacy 
of his resolutions. They were all broken up, overcome, 
abandoned, forgotten. It was a forced religion, without 
the consecration of the heart to God, and it could not 
stand against change of place, gayety, temptation. On 
his way back to Boston, however, his convictions seem to 
have returned with much force, and again he resolved 
to reside some time at Andover. There, after a short 
interval, he for a season indulged a hope, the truth and 
stability of which further experience and conversation 
with his pastor at Boston, and with other christian 
friends, led him greatly to doubt, and at length to relin- 
quish entirely. In great anguish he found himself a lost 
sinner, and then, in all probability, was he first brought, 
by the power of the Holy Ghost, to cast himself for par- 
don, submissively and unreservedly, on the mercy of a 
crucified Redeemer. Then Christ became precious to 
his soul. Then, as in the presence of that Saviour, 
whom now the Holy Spirit was disclosing in his loveli- 
ness, he began to study with an eye single to the glory of 



MEMOIR. 23 

God, and to look humbly forward to an employment in 
the "ministry " of reconciliation. 

It is in March, 1830, that we find his affectionate 
pastor, whose hopes and prayers had doubtless followed 
him in all his course, and were now so sweetly and 
graciously fulfilled in his conversion, addressing him in 
answer to a letter on the subject of uniting with the 
church. 

" Your letter gave me much pleasure. The Lord has 
various ways, by which to bring his chosen vessels into his 
service. I trust he has had his eye upon you for good 
through all the gay and changing scenes of childhood and 
youth, and has ever designed that you should become a faithful 
and devoted laborer in his vineyard. 1 called at your father's 
house this morning, and perceived your mother's heart was 
full, when speaking of you. 

" I should think well of your making a public profession of 
your faith in the Lord Jesus Christ as soon as may be con- 
venient, and intended writing you, or conversing with you on 
the subject ere this. You are aware of the solemnity and 
responsibility of such a transaction ; but when grace reigns in 
our hearts, w r e feel as though we could not be bound by obli- 
gations too close or too strong to a being so lovely and glori- 
ous as Christ. A deep and affecting view of the depravity of 
our hearts, as it is less likely to be counterfeited by the great 
adversary, I consider one of the best evidences that we are 
indeed born of the Spirit. ' The son of man hath come to 
to seek and to save that which was lost.' 

"3Iay the Lord replenish your heart daily with fresh com- 
munications of grace, and enlighten your understanding that 
you may know what is the height and depth, the length and 
breadth of the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge. You 
are contemplating a great work ; but if the Lord has called 
you to it, he can fit you for it." 

From Henry's letters it is evident that he felt the 



24 MEMOIR. 

responsibility and solemnity of the transaction he was 
contemplating. He approached it with humility and 
fear, sensible not only of his unworthiness to be permitted 
to enter into covenant with the Most High God, but 
feeling that this step was intimately connected with his 
purposed consecration of himself to the holy work of 
the gospel ministry. He offered himself to the church, 
trusting in Jesus, and asking the prayers of his friends, 
who loved the Saviour. In one of his letters at this time, 
he says : — 

" The solemn responsibility which I am to take upon myself, 
and for which I must answer before the throne of the Most 
High, makes me feel that some delay in my situation, is not 
only proper, but imperiously demanded. Without a heart 
renewed by the grace of God, I never would enter upon the 
holy ministry ; never as one blind, would I attempt to lead the 
blind. Unworthy I know I am ; how unworthy God and 
myself only know ; but as a sinner, who has felt and known 
the power of a Saviour's dying love, as a sinner, who through 
God's mercy, notwithstanding the multitude of my transgres- 
sions, as a weak, dependent, and grateful creature, I do 
one day hope to preach Christ in truth and plainness to im- 
mortal souls." 

In another letter in regard to the same subject, he 
says : — 

" I feel that it is a most important step ; may God guide 
me right in this solemn consecration. It is indeed to me a 
most solemn act, for if God grants unto me life and health, and 
should permit me to enter upon the sacred duties of the min- 
istry, I myself shall be called to break the bread of life at the 
table of the Lord. Pray for me then that I may go with clean 
hands and holy affections, trusting in the Lord Jesus to purify 
and direct me. Pray for me, for by this step I take upon me 
the seal of the covenant, and if my heart is not surrendered 
to the Lord, if he does not teach me and lead me in the paths 



MEMOIR. 25 

of righteousness, wo is me for ray own sins, and for the 
errors which I should inculcate, and for the neglect and loss 
of immortal souls." 

With this anxious and trembling sense of his weakness, 
and unworthiness, there could not but be mingled in his 
bosom thanksgiving and praise, as he looked back on all 
the way through which the Lord had led him. It was a 
review adapted indeed to call forth the most ardent feel- 
ings of gratitude. The Lord had snatched him as a 
brand from the burning, had turned his feet into the 
path of life, had directed him to a course of sacred study, 
and made it delightful to his soul, had granted to him 
the tokens of his own love, given him the spirit of 
adoption, and blessed him with a sense of pardoned sin, 
and with his face toward the ministry of reconciliation, 
he was now about to be admitted to all the privileges and 
consolations of the children of God. He had already 
met the " shining ones" at the foot of the cross, and 
they had given him the robe, and " the roll with the 
seal upon it," and had " set the mark in his forehead," 
and he had already experienced, though but just at the 
commencement of his pilgrimage, the delight with which 
the " Lord of the way" is wont to refresh the spirit of 
weary pilgrims. He was now to be admitted to what 
Bunyan calls the stately Palace Beautiful, to partake of the 
supper and holy conversation of its inmates, and to have 
shown to him all the rarities of the place. Blessed indeed 
it is, to be a pilgrim under the care of Immanuel, and to 
be travelling through his territories towards the heavenly 
Jerusalem ! The pilgrims of that way are happy beings. 

" I see them walking in an air of glory, 
Whose light doth Ample on my days." 

And such was now his lot, through the gracious provi- 
dence of God, whose mercy had brought him from the 
3 



26 MEMOIR. 

City of Destruction and caused him to enter the strait 
gate, and the narrow way which leadeth unto life. 
" This occasion," he remarks in the letter last quoted, 
referring to his expected admission to the church, " can- 
not but excite within me the most lively gratitude. 
When I reflect upon my unworthiness, and see by what 
a train of providences I was inclined to connect myself 
with this institution, I cannot but exclaim, ' What shall 
I render to the Lord for all his mercies towards me?' " 

The following letter to the committee of the church, 
previous to his own admission as a member, and dated 
in April, 1830, contains a brief but interesting record, 
in his own language, of the discipline by which God 
brought him, through the influences of the Holy Spirit, 
to repentance. We have anticipated, in our remarks, 
the relation of some of the incidents mentioned in it, 
yet it will not probably be any the less interesting on 
that account. 

"From my early youth until late in my senior year at 
Cambridge, I was perfectly regardless and thoughtless upon 
the subject of religion. My attention was first excited during 
the dangerous illness of my beloved father. By his earnest 
desire I was prevailed upon to promise that I would daily 
read a chapter in the Bible. By this exercise my attention 
was forcibly directed to a view of my own sinfulness. I 
determined to attempt prayer ; far from soothing my mind, 
its influence was only more to excite. Whilst my promise 
bound me to my Bible, I determined to drown my anxiety 
and thought, by plunging myself into the centre of brilliancy 
and pleasure. 

" About this time I was invited to make a visit to Andover. I 
did so, and many prejudices were removed, and the conduct and 
j>iety of the young men made a (fep and favorable impression. 
By some circumstances which your committee will detail, I 
was led to pass my last collegiate vacation there. I at that 



MEMOIR. 27 

time engaged in prayer, and though not in a proper manner, 
yet with a certain kind of pleasure to myself. I was per- 
suaded of the importance of religion, and determined to pass 
a year at Andover, in hopes that it might be blessed to me. 

" Invited by a friend to visit B. at this season, I for a 
moment hesitated ; but as I felt a confidence that I should 
not fall back, I decided to go. I was mistaken ; I was over- 
come, my resolutions abandoned, my determinations forgotten. 
Upon my way to Boston, my past life with fearful vividness 
came up before me ; the very ; hair of my head stood up,' 
and terrible convictions of my sin, in spite of opposition, were 
presented to my mind. I was again i*esolved to visit and 
remain for some considerable portion of time at Andover. 

" 3Iy project was put into immediate execution. After a 
short time, in view of the character of God I had great delight. 
I then had convictions of my sinfulness, (though not piercing) 
I felt my need of a Saviour, and shortly thought that I indulged 
a stable hope. 

" A visit to Boston, conversation with Mr Green and with 
Christians, and longer experience, led me to doubt the truth of 
it. I determined to dedicate a week to prayer and reflection. 
I did so. I felt that I was deceived ; I passed days of pain, 
and anguish, and tears. It was then that I felt from the bot- 
tom of my soul, that in me was no goodness, and that without 
a Saviour, death was certain. It was after this season of sorrow 
and darkness that the sun of righteousness seemed to pour 
forth his rays into my astonished and rejoicing soul. Since 
that, though at times I have felt great coldness, yet I have, I 
humbly trust, increased in love towards my divine Lord and 
Redeemer, in love to my fellow men, and in desire to promote 
by every exertion, as a humble instrument, the glory of God." 

The time spent at ArTdover passed pleasantly and 
profitably from its very commencement. The studies of 
the seminary, which at fi(|t he found delightful to engage 
in simply as a scholar, iftreased in interest, we need 
not say, when his soul was brought under the regenerating 



28 MEMOIR. 

power of the Holy Spirit. It was no longer as " a stran- 
ger and sojourner," that he engaged with the other 
students in their theological pursuits, but as one of like 
heavenly sympathies, " as a fellow citizen with the saints, 
and of the household of faith," as one kindred with them 
in Christ, consecrated to his service, and studying with his 
love as the delightful, hallowing, absorbing motive. Now, 
the study of the Bible was precious to him, because it 
was the word of God, and the spirit of God was with 
him, breathing upon its pages, bringing its truths to sight, 
disclosing in it a Saviour's loveliness and glory, and 
making his words indeed " spirit and life" to the soul. 
He knew the value of his inestimable privileges, and 
studied to improve them with direct reference to his 
future usefulness. His letters indicate increasing growth 
in grace, and fixedness of holy purpose, and they breathe 
the most affectionate solicitude for the spiritual welfare 
of those dear to him. His appeals to his unconverted 
friends were earnest and faithful. 

The following extract is from a letter written probably 
(for it is not dated) very shortly after the commencement 
of his studies with the class at Andover, and presents 
an amusing picture of the difficulties he had to encoun- 
ter in becoming acquainted with Hebrew. 

" Time permits me to write but a few lines ; were it other- 
wise my eyes and feelings would scarce prompt to do more. 
Seven hours on Hebrew is enough to cut the eyes to pieces; 
as for the brain, rive would suffice for that ; it is really worse 
than riding a rail with weights on the feet. For about a week 
we shall be compelled to make every exertion, then we shall 
sail in smoother water, in our studies thus far. we have 
been surrounded with clouds and darkness. Hebrew is en- 
tirely unlike our western languajps. No analogies are to be 
discovered, nothing to lean upon, nothing to assist the trem- 
bling step. Difficulties meet you on every side ; the hydra's 



MEMOIR. 29 

head is cut off, but two spring from the wound ; one rule leads 
to at least half a dozen others. Do you meet with a dot, or 
vowel, or metheg, or tone accent, pages at least must be read 
before it is understood, then read and re-read before it can be 
stamped upon the memory. For a long time you travel, as 
it were, over a hard country 'blindfolded,' staggering under 
a load which each moment accumulates in weight, when, 
thump — you hit some object, off goes the 'blinder,' down 
goes the burden, and you find yourself in a new and pleasant 
country. The new beginner in Hebrew, like the noviciate in 
masonry, must consent to be led by a rope with bandaged 
eyes, or else cannot expect to become acquainted with the 
secrets. When the first stage of the language is passed every- 
thing is exceedingly simple ; we now begin to enjoy its 
beauties." 

The following passage, from a letter also without 
definite date, seems to have been written soon after he 
had " made the trial " of Andover as a residence, and 
while experimental religion was yet new to him, though 
in it he had begun to " see men as trees walking." 

" Andover is in every way pleasant to me ; that I have 
made this trial is to me a source of great satisfaction. Oh ! 
that it may be to me a blessing ! Before coming up here, the 
importance of religion was a subject which I had indeed 
speculated upon, but which I had not deeply felt. The truth 
of the doctrines of religion, my head had sanctioned, but my 
heart did not acknowledge. But now I do feel that to specu- 
late upon and to believe, is not enough ; we must practise, and 
feel, and fear, and hope. 

" These words may appear strange to some who will read 
this letter, and were I some months since to have read these 
inditings of my own hand, I should not have known their 
meaning. 

" In the present age, religion is often termed ' fanaticism ; ' 
and he who dwells upon it and puts it in practice, ' a fanatic.' 

3* 



30 MEMOIR. 

And what are these principles that the world declaims against, 
of which fanaticism is made up ? 

"First, an acknowledgment of a naturally depraved disposi- 
tion. 

" Second, that a mediator is necessary to shield us from the 
penalties due for laws a thousand times broken, and a full 
confidence in Christ as that mediator. 

" Third, entire repentance for all sins, both those of thought 
and those of deed. 

" Fourth, love and implicit obedience to God. 

" Fifth, constant prayer for the blessing and presence of the 
Holy Spirit. 

" Such are the feelings of which fanaticism is made up ; 
analyze it, and hold up any individual feeling, and the lip of 
the scorner is still ; for the truth of each is too palpable, but 
unite them, and like the man in the fable, he will answer yes 
to every question, till you come to that which is formed from 
all together, and that he will stoutly deny. 

" But let us drop the word, for it is no fanaticism to serve 
God. These feelings do not constitute fanaticism, but re- 
ligion." 

The following paragraph from a letter dated the 27th 
of July, 1880, would convey to a stranger rather a dreary 
impression in regard to the nature of our climate. He 
observes, " Everything here is quiet; our duties occupy 
all our time and demand our attention, so that we have 
little opportunity for news-gathering. This evening I 
have a comfortable fire, and imagination carries me back 
to the days of December ; indeed, as this day I went 
over to lecture, enveloped in the folds of my heavy 
cloak, I could scarce realize that leaves, and birds, and 
flowers, and fruits were around me." We need not 
remark that it is a rare thing, even at Andover, for a 
fire to be " comfortable" at the close of July, and that 
there, as elsewhere, this is the warm month when one 



MEMOIR. 



31 



might live in "the green-wood glade; M the month when 

"Dew-dropping coolness to the shade retires," 

and the land is fall of " beauty, fragrance, herbs, and 
flowers, and fruit." Nor need we say that Andover is 
one of the pleasantest summer retreats to be found in all 
New England. For the theological student, especially, 
whose heart is in his holy pursuits, it is a sweet, conge- 
nial residence. The glory of God in his works, combines 
with the glory of God in his word, to elevate the soul 
perpetually to heaven. It is a fit place for a life of 
praise, of penitence, and prayer ; and the wonder is, 
that where all surrounding influences are so blessed, any 
individual can pass months and years in that sacred 
retirement and in such heavenly occupations, without 
becoming an eminent saint. But to all these things, the 
special, uninterrupted, unwearied influences of the Holy 
Spirit must be added, or they are lifeless to the soul ; 
and even then, with all the united power of providence 
and grace, alas ! what a work of difficulty, patience, and 
forbearance does God find it to win us to himself. It is 
a work of unmingled and astonishing mercy. 

" In Andover," Henry thus writes to one of his broth- 
ers, " there is much of natural beauty to sooth the feel- 
ings, and much to awaken and nourish the imagination. 
I now see a thousand spots, which exerted a powerful 
influence upon your taste ; the scenery of Andover is 
peculiarly calculated to chasten, and yet at the same 
time invigorate the mind. Who, that has any love for 
nature, does not stand with delight upon the high hill 
that bends over the silver waters of the Shawshene, and 
admire the God that framed^o beautiful a picture V' 

The following is frorr^another letter to a young 
friend, and apparently written from his own experience. 



32 MEMOIR. 

"There is no joy like that which he feels, who can go to 
the feet of Jesus and say ' thou art mine, and I will trust in 
thee.' To see in him the reconciled face of God is inexpres- 
sibly sweet ; to remember that all who love and trust in him, 
are to enjoy his presence forever in the abodes of bliss, to 
hear his precious words fall from his own mouth, is indeed 
enough to make us exclaim with Paul ' Christ shall be mag- 
nified in my body, whether it be by life or by death.' And 
what a glorious privilege it is, that we, unworthy and sinful 
as we are, should be permitted to do anything for the glory 
of our Redeemer ; that we are permitted ' not only to believe, 
but also to suffer for his sake.' God be praised, he has given 
us a ' cross to take up ;' a very little return for all his love and 
kindness to us. If we have an earthly friend to whom we 
are tenderly attached, how constantly do we watch his 
desires, to gratify them, and mourn if there is no little thing 
which we can do for him. How ready should we be to 
watch and to do for him who is ' our all in all.' I do rejoice, 
and daily more so, that God has graciously placed me, 
where I have heard the name of Jesus, and been excited 
to some little desire, in view of his love, of advancing his 
glory." 

To the same individual he thus writes, on another 
occasion, when the attention of his friend seems to have 
been powerfully awakened to the things of eternity : 

" I received your letter with very great pleasure. It is with 
high satisfaction that I learn that you are engaged in the 
Sabbath school. You will find it to be a very interestin g 
exercise ; and you must also remember that it is a very 
responsible one. You are teaching souls, and you are teach- 
ing them those things upon which iheir eternal welfare 
depends. I entreat youthen, my dear friend, that you will 
carefully reflect upon those important truths, which it will be 
your duty to communicate; Jfe^iiot a ' blind leader of the 
blind,' but remember that one My you, and those whom you 
instruct, will be called to stand together before the tribunal of 
your God, you to answer for the manner in which you have 



MEMOIR. 33 

taught, they for the manner in which they have improved. 
Feel then your weakness, and enter upon the execution of 
your duties with a prayerful heart. Go not to amuse, go not 
merely to instruct the understanding, but go to plead to the 
heart, go with the tidings of great joy, preach ' Christ cruci- 
fied, to the Jews a stumbling block, to the Greeks foolishness, 
but to those who believe, the power of God, and the wisdom 
of God.' On this subject I have one thing more to say ; never 
go to the Sabbath school, until you have entered your room, 
and there alone called upon God to bless and direct you. If 
you are not willing to do this, go not at all ; the service of an 
unwilling heart in the eye of the Lord, is vile. 

" If I was pleased to hear that you had connected yourself 
with the Sabbath school, still more was I, of your attendance 
upon the inquiring meetiug. It has filled my whole soul with 
joy. It does indeed seem as if my prayers had been heard in 
heaven ; may God bless to you those exercises. I hope 
that you possess character enough, not to be laughed out of 
the performance of duty. The Christian must disregard the 
finger of scorn, and instead of being intimidated by, or angry 
with, must pray for the scorner. You think that the life of a 
Christian is a difficult one. And so it is; ' strait is the gate, 
and narrow is the way,' and he that would enter upon it must 
be ready not only to pass by the flowers, but to trample on the 
thorns. It is difficult, but it leads to Heaven, and to everlast- 
ing happiness. Methinks the road, however hard and peril- 
ous, which should lead to a crown and a kingdom, should not 
be deemed very trying. But if there are difficulties, there 
are joys also, in the life of the Christian, and these far out- 
number every trial which is to be encountered. These joys, 
the world knows nothing about ; but the pearls are precious 
still, though the swine know it not, and trample on them. 
For my own part, were the spirit within me to be annihilated, 
at its separation from the flesh, to know of no eternity, no 
heaven of reward, yet still, catting aside all the vanities which 
are held in such high esteem Vjre below, I would exclaim, Let 
me be a Christian, and I'll give up all that the world deems 
desirable. But when the world's sorrow commences, that of 



34 



MEMOIR. 



the Christian ends. He has fought the right of faith, he has 
run the race which was set before him ; and in company with 
angels, and with the spirits of just men made perfect, with 
the sound of the heavenly music in his ears, with the thought 
of eternal happiness in his heart, with gladness he ascends to 
the regions of love, wfrere he is to enjoy the face of his God 
and Redeemer forever. I would advise you to get Doddridge's 
Rise and Progress of Religion in the Soul ; you will find 
it an admirable guide, as well as a very interesting work. 
Read also Baxter's Saint's Rest. This is a most valuable little 
book. J let no day pass without reading more or less of it." 

To the same friend, at another time, he writes thus, 
on the^subject of coming to the Saviour. 

" He not only is willing to have you come, he not only 
stands ready, but he beckons to you, he entreats. But listen to 
his own words. ' Ho ! every one that thirsteth, come ye to 
the waters, and he that hath no money ; come ye, buy, and 
eat ; yea, come buy wine and milk without money and without 
price.' Do you not hate sin enough then to loath it; and are 
you not willing to go to Jesus, when these are his terms ? 
What more would you have him say, that he has not said ? 
' Come without money and without price.' Just go then with 
your wants, sink down and tell him of your weakness, remind 
him of his promises, and he will hear ; if the word of a sin- 
ner like myself can be believed, you may be certain that he 
will hear. Go with a humble, child-like belief, reposing full 
confidence in him, as able and willing to save, and his words, 
' whosoever believeth on me shall not perish, but shall have 
everlasting life,' shall be verified to the saving of your soul. 
Then shall you go out with joy, and be led forth with peace ; 
6 the mountains and the hills shall break forth before you with 
singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.' 
May God so deal with and bless you." 

The following passage from a letter to his parents 
seems to have been written on his twentyfirst birth-day. 



MEMOIR. 35 

" This day commences a new portion of my existence. 
The days of youth have ceased, and if never before, the obli- 
gations and duties of manhood are mine. I pray God that I 
may be assisted faithfully to discharge them ; that no tears 
may embitter the happiness of those whose interests are so 
closely connected with my own ; to whose affection I owe so 
much gratitude, whose tender care I can never adequately 
repay. A year has now passed away since God by his won- 
derful and most merciful providence directed my unworthy 
feet to this holy hill; to privileges undeserved, to the fountain 
of sweet waters that flows from the throne which is in Zion ; 
from the bondage of corruption to the liberty purchased by 
precious blood. In God is my confidence, to uphold, strength- 
en and direct in all my purposes and plans ; to render the 
weak resolution strong, the wavering counsel, sure." 

Not long before Henry's foreign journey, he wrote, in 
one of his letters, the following passage, in relation to 
the burial-place on Mount Auburn. The coincidence 
of that passage with the event of his death was certainly 
most striking ; and the sentences possess a peculiar 
interest, when we remember that he himself was the first 
member of the family laid to rest in that Rural Ceme- 
tery, and that there he is now, according to his own wish, 
" sleeping his long, cold sleep." 

"You speak of the Rural Cemetery at Sweet Auburn. I 
am pleased with the project. It will undoubtedly succeed. 
I am happy to learn that father contemplates taking a spot 
there ; with those pleasant places my college days are ten- 
derly connected, and I would love there to sleep my long, 
cold sleep. To such a place there is a permanence which is 
wanting to the common church-yard ; the bodies there depos- 
ited rest quietly forever ; besides, to such a spot we are led by 
our best sympathies to shed tears, or scatter flowers. I am 
glad too that my dear father is about to make arrangements 
for our common burial-place, that as we have been united in 
life, we may not be separated in death." 



36 MEMOIR. 

In connexion with the passage referring to the Rural 
Cemetery, where the remains of Henry now repose, 
there is another passage of interest found in the journal 
of his private experience at Andover, in which he records 
the forebodings of his own early death. It is a very 
striking, and solemn paragraph, and when we think of 
its remarkable coincidence with the after reality, in the 
event of his sudden and unexpected departure into the 
eternal world, it wears the aspect of prophetic truth. 
The following are his words. " Whether it be falsely 
and without cause, I know not, but certain is the 
fact, that I do feel that my life is not to be a long one. 
What causes are operating I know not, or whether 
any ; but whether the imagination has started it into 
life, or whether the soul has a certain indefinite kind 
of warning, like that which stirs the animal world 
into fear before the terrible convulsions of nature — the 
chillness of death's presence — the forerunner of his 
icy touch — by whatever influence caused, whether a 
false presentiment, or real existence — such is the feeling. 
Fully confirming the enormity of my sins, and that all 
my days have been evil, I would humbly rely upon Jesus 
Christ for forgiveness, hoping that my un worthiness may 
be hidden in his atoning love. And O ! thou most Gra- 
cious God ! wilt thou grant that I may ever stand pre- 
pared for the coming of the Son of man, for no man 
knoweth the hour of his coming." 

Most interesting it is to find this sad presentiment 
united with a prayerful spirit, and a humble reliance 
upon Jesus, as an atoning Saviour. The ominous feel- 
ing does not seem long to have weighed heavily upon 
him ; if it had, he would scarcely have planned his visit 
and residence in Europe. Such auguries certainly tend 
to make the mind indisposed for projects that would take 



MEMOIR. 37 

much time, or incur danger, in their execution. They 
also lead the pious heart nearer to God, and cause a more 
trembling sense of dependence upon him ; and perhaps 
for this very purpose God himself often impresses them 
upon the minds of his children. Be this as it may, such 
presentiments are not unfrequent, and they are a deeply 
interesting subject of thought, both for the penitent and 
the impenitent ; the prepared and the unprepared. There 
is but a step between us and death at any time, and we 
" know perfectly that the day of the Lord so corneth as 
a thief in the night J' 

Some who in their voluntary blindness and pride have 
neither known God, nor cared respecting the solemn 
realities of revelation, have been disposed to say with 
Wallenstein, that 

" There exist moments in the life of man 

When he is nearer the great soul of the world 

Than is man's custom, and possesses freely 

The power of questioning his destiny : 

And such a moment 'twas, when in the night, 

Before the action in the plains of Lutzen, 

Leaning against a tree, thoughts crowding thoughts, 

I looked out far upon the ominous plain, 

My whole life, past and future, in this moment, 

Before my mind's eye glided in procession, 

And to the destiny of the next morning, 

The spirit, filled with anxious presentiment, 

Did knit the most removed futurity." 

Though it may seem like a digression, we shall be 
pardoned, it is so interesting a subject, for presenting 
here one more extract from Coleridge's exquisite transla- 
tion of Schiller's Tragedy. It is from the first scene, 
solemn and ominous, of the fifth act. 

11 Countess. — Dost thou not believe that oft in dreams 
A voice of warning speaks prophetic to us ? 
4 



38 MEMOIR. 

11 JVullenstein. — There is no doubt that there exist such 
voices, 
Yet I would not call them 
Voices of warning, that announce to us 
Only the inevitable. As the sun, 
Ere it is risen, sometimes paints its image 
In the atmosphere, so often do the spirits 
Of great events stride on before the events, 
And in today already walks tomorrow. 
That which we read of the fourth Henry's death 
Did ever vex and haunt me like a tale 
Of my own future destiny. The king 
Felt in his breast the phantom of the knife, 
Long ere Ravaillac armed himself therewith, 
His quiet mind forsook him : the phantasma 
Started him in his Louvre, chased him forth 
Into the open air : like funeral knells 
Sounded that coronation festival ; 
And still ivith boding sense he heard the tread 
Of those feet that even then were seeking him 
Throughout the streets of Paris" 

How is it that premonitions of future events are always 
melancholy ones ? When, pleasant occurrences are ex- 
pected, we call them anticipations. Premonitions of 
eternity, even heathen philosophers have experienced, and 
remarked upon ; they seem lines, that cannot be effaced, 
of the law written on the heart. 

The subject of a voyage and residence abroad seems 
to have been one of much prayer and contemplation with 
Henry for some time before his determinations were 
made in regard to it. The plan was to him delightful ; 
he appears to have adopted it not without anxious delib- 
eration, self-examination, and frequent counsel with his 
pious friends and instructers. 

w Life is full of light and shade. You observed that I must 
not fix my mind too strongly upon going to Germany, lest I 
should be disappointed. I hope that I shall not be so engross- 



MEMOIR. 39 

ed with the desit e, that convictions that it would not be my best 
course, would be disregarded by me. My wish is, most cer- 
tainly, to be useful. The only question is, what would con- 
duce to render me most so ; whatever would, I hope will be 
discovered, and however it may militate with my feelings, be 
pursued. I had much rather suffer disappointment now, than 
feel regret for an evil and unalterable course. My strong in- 
clination is for Germany, but I am determined to listen with 
candor to every objection urged against it; and if on the 
whole I consider the reasons against it to preponderate — 
then farewell to the bright expectations and thoughts in which 
I have indulged." 

After he had fully decided to leave the Seminary at 
Andover, with the intention then of spending the next 
two years in Germany, he addressed the following letter 
to his reverend instructers. It exhibits in a very pleas- 
ing manner the feelings of gratitude, deference, and 
affectionate esteem, he had been wont to cherish to- 
wards them. 

To the Faculty of the Andover Theological Seminary — 

Respected and Reverend Sirs, — Personal inter- 
views with most of your number having afforded me an 
opportunity of expressing my views, feelings and designs re- 
specting any farther continuance in Andover, and of unfold- 
ing to you my future plans, it will be unnecessary for me 
again particularly to enumerate them. 

" But as it was then rather a matter of contemplation than 
of actual decision, and as it was not addressed to you in your 
collective capacity, having now fully decided to pass my 
next two years in Germany, it seems proper that I should 
formally announce it to you. In doing so, permit me the 
privilege of a few words, that the conditions of our separation 
may be distinctly understood. In the first place then, I do 
not request a dismission on account of any dissatisfaction. I 
have now completed nearly two years under your kind watch 
and instruction ; looking back over this period, I can trnly call 



40 MEMOIR. 

it one of the happiest portions of my life. The instructions 
which I have enjoyed, I am sensible, I cannot prize too 
highly. I came with high expectations, nor have I been 
in the least disappointed ; candidly do 1 acknowledge that 
if ever the active principles of my mind have been brought 
into exercise, cultivated, directed and disciplined, it has been 
since my residence in Andover. Nor is this all. It was on 
this consecrated hill that first my thoughts were seriously 
turned to the great interests of my soul. It was chiefly the 
attendance of lectures in this place during my collegiate life, 
which led me to pause and inquire whether those fears, which 
as they throw their shade over my mind, I had called the 
tremblings of superstition, might not be based on real dan- 
ger, and demand thoughtful attention. The powerful and 
unanswerable arguments of one of your number on funda- 
mental points decided me, in connexion with my own feel- 
ings, to seek here a knowledge of Jesus. I humbly hope that 
since that time, by your advice and instructions, 1 have 
received right views of our blessed Redeemer, and that these, 
with attentive and prayerful reading of the sacred scriptures 
have been sanctified to me by the Holy Spirit, and that 
through the grace of God, though utterly unworthy, I may 
hope for an interest in the merits and sufferings of our 
ascended Lord. This claims a gratitude of which I hope I 
am not entirety destitute. And whilst I thus remember the 
privileges and benefits, which in common with many others I 
have enjoyed, it affords me peculiar satisfaction to recollect 
those acts of kindness and courtes} 7 , which as an individual I 
have experienced from your hands. You have thus, if you 
had not in any other way, secured that w 7 hich great men 
most often fail in, affection as well as respect. It is scarce 
necessary then to repeat, that I leave not from any dissatis- 
faction. 

" In the second place, I leave from no difference in senti- 
ment. This is perhaps involved in what I have already said. 
In all that is important, indeed in most respects in what is not, 
I can heartily concur in your opinions. I have listened to 
them with candor and eagerness, and have embraced them 



MEMOIR. 41 

because I have considered them agreeable to reason and the 
infallible testimony of scripture, and because they corres- 
ponded to my desires and the best feelings of my heart. 

" But I will not more enlarge, as I have already freely 
spoken with you. I say briefly, therefore, that the advantages 
which I have been led to anticipate in Europe — perhaps in 
connexion with some native curiosity — chiefly govern me. 
What these advantages are, it would be unnecessary for me to 
suggest to you. Those which I shall especially seek are con- 
nected with church history and the Archaiology of the 
scriptures ; these, with Professors Tholuck and Neander's 
courses upon the New Testament, embrace the objects of my 
desire ; soma other things will of course fall in with them, 
which I need not specify ; to their pursuit I shall devote two 
years. 

" I am fully sensible that the adoption of such a measure 
demands caution, full examination, and humble prayer. If I 
have remembered the two former of these, I hope I have not 
forgotten the latter ; that with a mind free from bias, I may 
seek after the will of our Heavenly Parent is my earnest de- 
sire. After all, I may be mistaken , (if so, it has been a delib- 
erate mistake,) in selecting the course upon which I have 
decided ; but as far as I am acquainted with my own heart, I 
have been actuated by sincere desires to extend the field of 
my usefulness and bring fresh glory unto him who is plente- 
ous in redemption. I go therefore, relying on that grace 
which is sufficient for the time of need, praying, that the tears 
of regret may not sadden this life, nor the horrors of the 
backslider crown my dying hours, for inconsistencies or fatal 
errors — against all which may that blessed Being who hear- 
eth prayer graciously deliver me. 

" Once more therefore, rendering to you my hearty thanks 
for the repeated and undeserved kindness which I have re- 
ceived at your hands, and requesting an interest in your suppli- 
cations at the throne of grace, that God may watch over, pro- 
tect, and deliver me from dangers and sin, and save me in the 
end with an everlasting salvation, I come to present to you 
4* 



42 MEMOIR. 

the appropriate vouchers, and soberly to request an honorable 

dismission from your watch and care, and such testimonials 

of my character during your supervision, as are customary on 

like occasions ; as circumstances demand that the relations, 

which have so long and so pleasantly subsisted between us, 

should for the present, if not evermore, be discontinued. 

With great respect, I remain, 

Your obedient servant, and 

Younger brother in Christ, 

Henry B. McLellan. 
August 2, 1831. 

The following certificate was given to him at his de- 
parture. 

Theological Seminary, Andover, Aug. 4, 1831. 
Mr Henry B. McLellan has, for nearly two years, been a 
member of this Institution. During this time he has been 
diligent and successful in his studies, and amiable and exem- 
plary in his deportment. He leaves the Seminary with the 
sincere love and confidence of the Professors ; and is hereby 
affectionately recommended to the friends of learning and 
religion, wherever he may go. 

In behalf of the Faculty 

Leonard Woods. 

We have seen how highly our departed friend valued 
the christian privileges, which the Lord granted him, in 
his residence at Andover, and with what grateful emo- 
tions he remembered the counsels and kindness of his 
instructers. His diary shows that while at that institu- 
tion he was not only pursuing his studies with industry 
and success, but that he was steadily advancing in the 
Divine Life, and becoming experienced in 4he christian 
conflict. It seems to have been kept at irregular inter- 
vals, but the following pages exhibit an interesting picture 
of his mind and heart, communing in secret with God, 



MEMOIR. 43 

and contending against sin. We see from them that he 
knew the depravity of his own heart, and mourned over 
it, and strove against it, and trusted in the Holy Spirit to 
conquer it; that he felt his weakness and unworthiness, 
and fled, trembling, to the Lord, relying only upon Christ 
crucified, for justification, and redemption, and resorting 
to the fountain of his blood, for his soul's purification and 
the remission of sins. The expression of his feelings 
has so much sincerity, simplicity and beauty, that even 
the reader, whose heart will not respond to them, can 
scarcely peruse these fragments without pleasure. They 
are interesting as being the early christian experience of 
one, who had long " lived without God in the world, " 
and who therefore, when his heart was brought back to 
God, loved his Saviour with the deeper love, and wel- 
comed with the greater earnestness, the humbling, but 
precious doctrines of the cross — humbling, and /br that 
reason precious, to every disciple of the Lord. The 
very first paragraph in the journal of his feelings, refers 
to " the coldness of rationalism," now strongly felt, in 
contrast with the mercy andpreciousness of Jesus. The 
mercy and preciousness of Jesus ! This it is, that is 
disclosed in the experience of every child of God;- — a 
revelation of the efficacy of Christ's blood, and of his 
power 3 loveliness, and glory, as the soul's only Saviour. 
In the Lord's infinite mercy it was evidently granted to 
the subject of this memoir, and thenceforth Christ cru- 
cified possessed his heart. His language was, 

" There is a fountain, filled with blood, 
Drawn from Immanuel's veins, 
And sinners, plunged beneath that flood, 
Lose all their guilty stains. 

" The dying thief rejoiced to see 
That fountain in his day ; 



44 MEMOIR. 

And there may I, though vile as he, 
Wash all my sins away." 

This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all accepta- 
tion, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, 
of whom I am chief This is the language of every heart 
that feels its own sinfulness, and loves the Saviour. It is 
the language of contrite, affectionate, and confiding 
piety ; and such is the piety exhibited in the following 
extracts. They commence, as in the journal, without 
any determinate date. 

Wednesday. — Religion is indeed a reality ! I once 
had some doubts whether it really was so. God be 
thanked ! I am now established in my opinion ! I now 
see, I now feel the coldness of rationalism; strange that 
man can be satisfied with such a shadow. Could man 
but know the weight of his sin, he would acknowledge 
that nothing but a cross could support, nothing but blood 
cleanse. God be praised that although I am the vilest 
of the vile, yet Jesus is ever ready to receive and pardon 
the contrite of spirit. How could I have spurned such 
love away. Thou who hast promised that those who 
ask shall receive, wilt thou hear? wilt thou forgive? I 
know thou wilt, for thou wert willing to die that man 
might live. 



Thursday. — I have just read the 88th Psalm. It 
seems to meet my feelings exactly, my soul is full of 
sorrow 7 . My heart is bowed down with grief ; O! may 
the Lord accept the offering of a contrite heart. Wo be to 
me this night, for I do not feel so blest with the Lord's 
presence as heretofore ! What new sin has made my 
guilty heart an unfit habitation for his love ? Before I 
taste of sleep I must be assured that he has not departed 



MEMOIR. 45 

altogether. I rejoice ! the prayer of the humble, God 
answereth ; I rejoice ! It was myself that was absent, 
God was ready to hear. 

Friday. — " As the hart panteth after the water brooks, 
so panteth my soul after thee, O God. My soul thirsteth 
for God, for the living God ; when shall I come and ap- 
pear before God ? M Why should I sigh at sorrow, when 
it draweth me nearer to thee, my Lord ? It is good to be 
afflicted that we may receive comfort. As water is sweet 
to the thirsty one, so is thy presence to me after many 
groans. As my finger traces these lines, I feel forcibly 
the meaning of certain texts that were once hidden to 
my perception. Indeed the whole of the sacred volume 
is changed in my eyes ; where once I passed with indif- 
ference, now living characters catch my attention, each 
subject, exciting interest by its importance ; gratitude by 
its nature and promises. Would that all the world could 
see the same ; were a new sun to rise from the horizon 
greater surprise could not affect them. 

Saturday. — lean safely assert, that the Lord abound- 
eth in tender mercies ; wo were to me if it w T ere not so ! 
I have been drowned in a sea of sorrows ; let these walls 
witness ; let these tears testify. Terrible convictions of 
my guilt have overwhelmned me. I have called to the 
Lord all the day, and now he hath heard me. I hope 
that I am in some measure fitted to enjoy the holy exer- 
cises of the morrow ; may I be brought yet nearer to 
God, than I have ever yet been, and may my heart be 
filled with true love, that surpasseth all things. Grateful 
indeed should I be, that the eternal " I am " condescends 
to dwell where but late a thousand evil spirits were fos- 
tered in pollution. Who hath loosed my pinions, that I 
fly, and shake my wings in the brightness of the heav- 
ens? Not J, for earth seemed pleasant. Who hath broken 



46 MEMOIR. 

my chain ? Not I, for I knew not that one bound me. 
Oh! how many are bound that know it not. Blessed be 
God who hath opened my eyes. Blessed be Jesus who 
died for me. Blessed be the holy spirit that awakened 
me. 

Sunday. — A sharp sword has been drawn across my 
heart ; who but Jesus can staunch the blood ? Oh ! my 
need of a Saviour ! May God look upon me according 
unto his tender mercies. I have this day read the Bible 
with great interest. For these three years, if God in 
mercy spares my life, I am determined to devote all my 
attention to the Scriptures, to understand their meaning 
and feel their force. May the Holy Spirit ever rest upon 
me when I gaze upon the inspired page. I have labored 
long this day before the Lord ; I am about to go out 
amongst temptations, and may I then reap the fruits of 
my exertions. Thou art my shepherd. Oh ! let me not 
wander. I go with fear and trembling, yet with hope. 
Under the shadow of thy wing, danger there is none ; 
nor ever is thy wing so ready as when danger is near ; 
thou present, and " in vain the charmers may charm, 
charm they never so wisely. " After all, temptation like 
other things is relative; we make it strong, or break 
its power, according to the connexion in which we 
view it. 

Monday. — When most I strive to banish sin from my 
heart, I most feel my sinfulness and weakness. The 
lieart is like a deep well, the waters are stirred, hut it 
requires a, piercing eye to discover what it is that stirs 
them. Oh ! let me not think Jt an angel, if it he hut a 
serpent. I see that afoul spirit may for a time move us, 
as well as a holy one. I trust that God in his mercy 
will open mine eyes to see clearly. 

What promises does the Bible unfold. Mercy is written 



MEMOIR. 47 

on every page. Were God to judge with man's feelings, 
what would be my condition ? When I cease to entreat 
thee, oh ! my God, when my gratitude ceases, then may 
I die. I entreat of thee, my judge, that however I may 
be looked upon whilst I tread this earth, that thou wilt 
not desert me. Though I be overwhelmed, desert me 
not. If I have sinned, thou hast said that repentance is 
pleasant to the Lord. Intercede ! intercede for me ! 
For a few days my pen stoppeth, let it not be so with my 
heart ; alas ! when will it be clean ? 

May I walk in a discreet and prudent manner amongst 
my friends. Let me not offend by stiffness, neither let 
me yield to gain favor, where to yield is wrong. Above 
all, let me continue earnestly in secret to plead before 
thy face. 

Sunday. — I feel great gratitude, that through God's 
assistance I have in some measure resisted the tempta- 
tions with which a visit to Boston is full. Thanksgiving 
was indeed to me a day of rejoicing. Heinous indeed 
have been my sins since the last anniversary day of joy ! 
but I trust that my heart has been awakened to a sense 
of guilt and that I have stood a humble suppliant at the 
throne of mercy. Never was there a more stubborn 
heart than mine. God knoweth that it hath been crum- 
bled to pieces as the stone under the hammer. Who 
can stand before the living God ? 

It is my great desire and earnest prayer to grow in 
grace. I seem to make some slow advances ; may God 
favor the means which I employ. 

Friday. — My own weakness and the necessity of an 
entire dependence upon God, seem each day more mani- 
fest. Great, indeed, is the privilege to lean on Christ, 
yet how do we seem to disregard it. Pride ! selfish, 
stubborn pride ! alas ! we are as unwilling to have it 



48 MEMOIR. 

broken, as it is difficult to break. I thought mine never 
would be so. How ignorant was 1 ! God understood 
better the workmanship of his hand. Thy searchings, 
oh God ! are deep ; and thou knowest the hidden things. 
Through Death have I been led to thee. God have 
mercy on me ! I know that thou wilt, for great is the 
manifestation of thy goodness and tender mercy to man. 
Must the repentant sinner die? Why then died Jesus? 
Why his blood, his groans, his agony ? 

Thursday. — Every day God's mercies are more man- 
ifest to me; his character appears more lovely, mine own 
more vile. With these views, most delightful it is to feel 
that there is a living way by which we are permitted to 
come near to him. Never did the character of Jesus 
seem more glorious, or his offices more necessary to me, 
than upon this evening. How blind have I ever been ; 
but thanks to God, light, light indescribably bright, now 
comes pouring in upon my soul. I feel that the Lord is 
with me, even I, who but a few days ago was the most 
vile of sinners. Well do I know that the cry of the 
contrite escapeth him not. No pen can tell of the kind- 
ness of the Lord God Almighty. 

Sunday. — How short is time. How much to accom- 
plish — how soon to be finished ! Each day I must en- 
deavor to live, as if it were my last. Each petition must be 
uttered, as if the next was to be before the judgment bar 
of God. 1 am a sinner : I have lived a sinner all the 
days of my life ; and even now that I humbly hope that 
my heart has been changed, I have to struggle continu- 
ally against the lures of the tempter. It is a glorious 
contest, and I trust that my Lord and Saviour, will be as 
near to me while I strive in his service, as was Satan 
while I contended for him. Much is to be done, to break 
down what I have built up, and to build anew ; fortu- 



MEMOIR. 49 

nately it is a pleasant labor, no, exercise rather. What 
will happen to me tomorrow, I cannot tell ; but in this I 
am determined, that whether I live, or whether I die, in 
whatever manner it may be, my trust in God shall re- 
main unshaken, for hereadeth the " heart," and knoweth 
the things therein. Happen to man what will, yet God 
is just. 



Suffering is the lot of man. It is the sinner's curse ; 
the righteous make it the spring of much enjoyment. I 
hope that I may consider this a test of my own condi- 
tion. Hard must be my heart, if I can call upon thee, 
O my God, only in affliction's dark hour. No ! — - 

u I '11 think of thee in Spring's green time, 
And in the fruitful Summer's prime, 
And when the Autumn leaf is red, 
And when around the Winter's snow is spread." 

Let not my prayers cease ivith my sorrows ; thou know- 
est that my heart is full of gratitude for all of my bles- 
sings, and very numerous are they. I am surrounded 
with privileges, and each moment I see in thee new 
kindness and loveliness. When I ponder upon thee O 
God, I am filled with astonishment, especially that I have 
so much neglected thee. Henceforth ever let praises 
dwell upon my tongue, and may I strive ever to be near 
to thy footstool. Pour, I intreat thee, oh Holy Spirit ! 
more light into my still clouded soul; let each dark recess 
of that long-closed cavern be illuminated, and may all 
the evil spirits that have done foul work there, be banished 
and purged by the burning of sweet incense ; let it be- 
come a habitation for holiness. The serpent creepeth in 
the dust, and satan dwelleth where sin is. Let then my 
5 



50 MEMOIR. 

heart be made an habitation unpleasant to him, and he 
will fly from it. 



How much does man need the direction of heaven, 
how little he thinks of it, how seldom seeks it. If he 
desires an object, he is ready to strive with man, with 
danger, with difficulty ; nothing is too arduous to attempt, 
no sacrifice too great, no pain too dreadful ; everything 
in the natural or moral world, whatever agent it be, that 
can advance him to his purpose, must be made to coop- 
erate with his own untiring energies ; and yet the assist- 
ance of God, the creator, the preserver of all things, the 
exercise of his power alone is unlooked, unsought for. 
Oh never let this be the case with me, my most " Boun- 
tiful Benefactor," but, may my every desire and endeavor 
begin, and centre in thee. Then, and then only shall I 
be truly blessed. Who, by attempts the most unceasing, 
can ever approach near enough to thee ; and yet how fee- 
ble our exertions ! O ! quicken my spirit, give it heavenly 
wings, that leaving this polluted body, it may receive 
new light, and life, and love, by a distant vision of thy 
nameless, inconceivable perfections. Oh, when shall I 
see the Lord ? 

I would ever live with God and with eternity in mind. 
And even with these ever before us, still how do we find 
our hearts full of pride and selfishness ! We should 
mourn, that these will grow in our hearts, in spite of 
all that we can do to destroy them ; alas, many instead of 
attempting to tear up these poisonous plants by the roots, 
nourish them with care, and bring them into the very par- 
lor, to fill the air , which is breathed by those they love, 
with death. Oh God ! assist me to pluck up these heart- 
destroying passions, for how can I dare approach thee, 



MEMOIR. 



51 



and ask forgiveness, and food, when I am ready to throw 
it before the altars of these " vile ones!" How can my 
soul reach to thee, with wings fouled by such communion, 
and with a chain to weary its flight ! O God, cleanse 
me " from secret sins." 



" Blessed are the poor in spirit ; for theirs is the king- 
dom of heaven." Humbly O God ! would I approach thy 
footstool ; justly canst thou spurn me away, yet consider 
me according to the multitude of thy tender mercies. 

" Grant one poor sinner more a place 
Among the children of thy grace; 
A wretched sinner, lost to God, 
But ransomed by Immanuel's blood." 



I am every day more convinced of the depravity of the 
human heart. Even when prayers have been most earn- 
est, and God has appeared most gracious, and Jesus most 
lovely ; when the world seemed to have lost its hold upon 
our affections, and the spirit, loosed from its dungeon, like 
a bird has soared up to heaven, how slight a dart has 
brought it back all bloody to the earth. The infirmities 
of the Christian, tend to keep him continually at the feet 
of the " Lamb that taketh away sin." And it is not 
until he feels that these are great, that he realizes that 
the Lord God is " merciful and gracious, long suffering, 
and abundant in goodness and truth." 



Oh ! how little do I love and serve God, compared to 
what I should do, when I think of the exertions that man 
is ready to make when some great plan fills his mind. I 
feel humbled and ashamed that 1 do strive so feebly in a 



52 MEMOIR. 

cause, in view of which, all others sink to nothingness. 
How little did those great spirits of evil, before the 
majesty of whose minds the world has trembled, hesitate 
at sacrifices the most trying, which the accomplishment 
of any great object demanded. Often these objects have 
been such, as the Christian should shudder at. Yet 
he is not willing, or at any rate, rarely makes en- 
deavors, as long continued, to go perseveringlv forward, 
though he strives for a heavenly crown. Hard indeed 
is the warfare, but it is a glorious one. How con- 
soling it is to the Christian, to feel that he liveth and 
moveth in the eye of the pure " God,"' who is ever ready 
to hear all that call upon him in humbleness of heart* 
May my soul ever lean upon thee my Lord and Redeemer, 
feeling its weakness ; lest when the body is divided 
asunder, and the spirit stript of its covering, stands in 
naked deformity before thy " Judgement seat," strength 
and courage desert it together. Oh ! let not that terri- 
ble day be terrible to all 



Once more a visit to B. has, I trust, been profitable to 
me. Through God's assistance, I was enabled to resist 
many temptations. My confidence in prayer is much 
increased by the opposition which it has enabled me 
to overcome ; the scorn which it leads me to disre- 
gard. The last Sabbath of the year has come, and is 
nearly passed away. I have endeavored to reflect seri- 
ously upon the events which are stamped upon its retreat- 
ing face. How much have I there found which has 
demanded regrets most bitter, how much that calls forth 
joy unspeakable. 



MEMOIR. 53 

The last evening of another year is almost gone. 
Change is stamped on everything. How different is the 
position which I now occupy, from that which but a 
year ago I held. Looking back, how is my mind filled 
with sorrow at the many dark spots in this year's history. 
Regret crowds after regret upon the arena of thought ; 
each in sadness, bringing sacrifice for some remembered 
sin. Yet to grief alone my spirit bends not. Deep are 
my obligations to the Almighty ; for his loving kindness 
has been great to my most unworthy, and rebellious soul. 
Though each day I do sin in the eye of the Lord, yet 
his hand I humbly trust, has in some measure drawn me 
from the loathsome pit and " the miry clay." " The 
living way" which the mercy of the Lord has established 
for the contrite in heart, has been opened to my eye, 
and the voice of the Lord has been loud to call me. I 
seem to have been led away from a precipice, from the 
brink of which, I was eagerlv looking to a phantom be- 
fore me, ignorant that beneath lay a gulf, the depth of 
which no eye could measure ; into which, a step would 
have plunged me. When I think of it, my mind grows 
dizzy. See ! there a poor wretch falls ; his mangled 
body bounding from precipice to precipice, still falling 
while eternity continues ; never-ending misery increas- 
ing, as he goes each moment more distant from his God — ■ 
his God no more. Alas ! many are rushing madly to 
the same awful abyss, as though it were a pleasant leap. 
Oh ! God have mercy on them ! In that crowd, where 
a moral delusion seems to paralize the nobler faculties 
of the soul, rushing on to destruction, I recognize the 
faces of many dear to my heart ; let me not hear the cry 
of joy changed to that of wo, nor see them descending, 
whence outstretched hands, nor tears can call them back. 
5* 



54 MEMOIK. 

Jesus have mercy upon them ; thou who - alone canst 
save, have mercy on them ! 



I entreat thee, oh ! my God, that thou wilt continually 
increase my faith. Let my whole trust be in thee. I 
am as the worm of the dust, very vile and unholy in thy 
pure eye ; in my weakness I am as the flower of the 
grass, that the wind scattereth ; yet if I was left to myself 
I should strive to rise to the highest heaven, on mine own 
wing, for such is the way of man. Oh ! God, cast me 
not down altogether, if I do in my foolishness forget 
thee ; chasten me not beyond my strength, but assist me 
to keep in the right path. Make me as a child, ever 
dependant ; as a son, ever looking to thee as a father. 
In prosperity, or in affliction may my heart fly alike to 
thee ; may ever the language of my heart be, " Thy will 
be done." 



O ! God make me to love thee more ; may my whole 
heart be filled with thy Holy Spirit : quicken my affec- 
tions, enliven those powers which thy grace has called 
into exercise, upon which as wings, the soul rises to thee. 
Enable me to cultivate whilst on earth a heavenly spirit, 
that, even here below, I may have a foretaste of those 
joys which there abound, and may so be urged to strive 
more diligently to render " my calling and election sure." 
Thou knowest my weakness, O! God, grant, oh, grant 
thine assistance. Grant, for in sorrow I come to thee, 
and confess with a contrite heart, that mine iniquities 
have been, and are as a garment upon me. Yet thou 
knowest that my soul is clothed in sackcloth, and ashes 
is sprinkled over it. But praised be thy mercy, Jesus 



MEMOIR. 55 

can cover a sea of sins ; and the words of his love are, 
" come unto me, all ye who are weary and heavy laden, 
and I will give you rest. 5 ' 



In the hour of sorrow it is pleasant to approach thee, 
O thou merciful God, and lay before thee our distress, 
and confess to thee our weakness, and place our depend- 
ence upon thee. Thou alone canst see the secret things 
within us ; to thy eye only would we raise the veil that 
curtains the " altar of tears." Sad, O ! God, is my spirit 
within me, and full of uncertainty ; and my troubles are 
many. More are they than the waves of the ocean, and 
more stormy ; others see from a distance and say, " lo ! 
Jioio calm ;" but thou seest the foam and hearest the roar- 
ing thereof As the sun upon the waters stilleth it, even as 
the child is stilled by its mother's voice, so doth thy pre- 
sence calm my soul, even the depths of it. Blessed, O 
God, is thy name. My soul leapeth to worship, and all 
within me crieth holy ! holy ! 



Is it possible ! What is man that he should boast him 
of tomorrow! Is it possible that from among my class, 
from off my very seat, unwarned, a classmate has been 
hurried to eternity ! How am I warned to have my loins 
girded about me, and my lamp trimmed. God seems to 
have set his seal upon us, and written " Thou art mine." 
How are we warned by it to devote ourselves more 
solemnly to the service of God, and to have less regard to 
the things of time and sense ! I hope that I have been 
suitably impressed by it. I pray that its influence upon 
my character and prayers may be deep and permanent. 
May I be certain upon what I rest, what is my depend- 



56 MEMOIR. 

ence ! Is it any thing which I have done, or said, or 
thought ? Alas ! far from being able to bring one good 
thing before the Lord, all that I have purposed of myself 
has been evil. Oh! my Redeemer, be thou my trust! 
May I look to thee with the unwavering eye of faith ; 
quicken I entreat thee, that spirit within me, and may I 
dwell much with thee. I do determine never to lay 
down on my bed at night, never to engage upon any duty, 
never suggest, or enter upon any plan, without first look- 
ing to thee. O ! assist me, assist me ; I know my weak- 
ness. Lord on thee I do believe. Help thou my 
unbelief! 



Once more the expectation of mingling with my family, 
gives joy to my heart. In looking forward to happiness, 
I cannot but look back with gratitude, that surrounded 
by so many privileges, my life has been spared to me. 
O that my spirit might be guarded by a heavenly influ- 
ence now that I am again to stand in. the midst of tempta- 
tions and dangers. 



O! God, strengthen me to bear whatever it may please 
thee to inflict : and let no repining complaint be mingled 
with my bitterness. So unexpectedly ! enable me to en- 
dure with fortitude, and wilt thou sanctify it and all 
adversities to me ; and may they tend to wean me from 
the false pleasures and vanities around me scattered. 



How do the infinite perfections of my God exceed the 
love I bear towards him ! Oh that love was written deep 
on my heart, that its impression might be left on every 



MEMOIR. 57 

action — seen in every motive. What is man unless the 
spirit of God operates on hitn to will and to do? Cold 
and insensible; forgetful of mercies, regardless of love, 
blind to danger, deaf to intreaties, even as a sleeper with- 
out consciousness, as one bound by pleasant dreams. 



"Lord who is it?" How important a question. " Is it 
I V Thou canst preserve, thou canst purify, thou canst 
.fill with the spirit of love, O then let not the " sop" fall 
into my hands, though I am an unworthy sinner. 



Thursday, April, Fast-day. How great is the change 
between this day and the same of last year. How sinful 
have I been since then, and by what a wonderful chain 
of providences have I been led to fly from the position 
which I then occupied ; what a day of prayer, and min- 
gled sorrows and rejoicing it should be to me. How my 
heart should melt with contrition and love. O that I were 
full of groans ! O that my heart were blistered with pain ! 
O that I were abased in the dust ! Why have I pride when 
so much has been done for me? Why so little love when 
Jesus bled for just such sins as I am full of? O, I am lost 
in wonder that Jesus should have died for such as me. 



O my God, when I consider thy character, I am as- 
tonished that such an insignificant being as myself should 
be permitted to fall down and worship and adore thee. 
O that the sanctifying influences of the Holy Spirit might 
so dwell in, and operate upon my soul, that with affections 
purified, I might constantly love and serve thee, and have 
that intimate communion with thee which so fills up the 



53 MEMOIR. 

measure of my joy ; and which constitutes the employment 
of the angels and saints made perfect, and makes heaven 
desirable and glorious. 



I am ashamed to review my life — how much mer- 
cy, how little gratitude. Drawn up from the dust, to the 
dust I as often descend ; truly I am an unprofitable ser- 
vant, if servant I dare call myself. How truly unworthy 
am I of all the choice blessings so liberally bestowed — 
ungrateful, cold-hearted, and perverse. I am almost dis- 
posed to doubt whether for God and my Lord and Saviour 
I possess any true love ; I am afraid that " Thy will be 
done" is but the answer of a heart that feels not loss. 
Can it be that I desire to be thine, body and soul, that 
thou art to me the " chief of ten thousands and altogether 
lovely," when I do so turn my heart to the things of the 
world, which thou abhorrest with perfect hatred? O thou 
perfect, and ever-active, and ever-present, pure, and 
" Holy Spirit ;" O thou infinite and all pervading essence, 
read and subdue and melt my iron heart ! 



It is, I know not how long, since I have recorded my 
feelings on these pages ; I hope however, not because 
the fountain of love has been dry. A great deal has 
transpired since ; I have enjoyed many privileges, I have 
received many mercies, experienced many preservations, 
one wonderful preservation ; but all the blessings and 
loving kindness of God has not restrained me from a great 
multitude of heinous, and aggravated sins. Indeed when 
I recollect the past, I am constrained to inquire with fear 
and deep anxiety " Do I love the Lord or no ?" O may 
Jesus be revealed in the fulness and brightness of his 



MEMOIR. 59 

excellence, with all those graces which fill up his charac- 
ter, and especially as the bleeding " Lamb of God," to my 
waiting eyes. In him I would desire to behold those riches 
and that beauty which I am so prone to seek in the bril- 
liancies and false pleasures of a deceitful world. O ! may 
I see thy face and be satisfied ; and find in thee, for this 
world and the next, my all in all. 



With this last paragraph, the private journal of Henry, 
before he left this country, closes. It exhibits inte- 
resting and delightful proof of his heartfelt acquaint- 
ance with Jesus, his sorrow for sin, his trust in the blood 
of atonement, his spirit of self-examination, his happiness 
in communion with God, his earnest desire after holiness, 
his love to the Saviour, his reliance on the Holy Spirit, 
and his advancement in the Divine Life. The closing 
page of it, in all probability, was written not long before 
his departure to Europe. Our remaining extracts from 
his papers will consist principally of portions of letters 
addressed, during his absence and journeyings in Eu- 
rope, to his beloved friends at home. They exhibit 
pleasing evidence of growth in grace, a sense of the many 
dangers with which he was surrounded, watchfulness 
against temptation, habitual reliance upon Jesus, and 
communion with God. 

If the perusal of Henry's private journal at Ando- 
ver gives interesting evidence that the grace of God 
was with him there, and that daily he was living in 
sweet communion with his Saviour, his letters from 
abroad do likewise afford very delightful proof that he 
was uninterruptedly growing in grace, amidst all the 
dangers, and changes, and temptations of his foreign re- 



60 MEMOIR. 

sidence and travels. They show that he preserved a 
deep sense of those dangers, and was watchful against 
temptation, trusting in the Lord Jesus alone for strength 
to overcome it. They show that he kept constantly in 
view, amidst his journeyings as well as his studies, the 
object of his life, and the responsibilities of the holy voca- 
tion, to which he was looking forward. They exhibit 
humility, gratitude for mercies, and privileges, and friends, 
a great sense of unworthiness in the midst of them, and 
of God's exceeding goodness in continuing them. They 
exhibit a constant, affectionate, and prayerful remem- 
brance of home and its inmates. His character naturally 
was full of social and domestic tenderness ; but after he 
became a child of God, — father, mother, brothers, sis- 
ters, home, — names always of sacred endearment to a 
filial and affectionate heart, — seemed to him dearer and 
more sacred than ever. His letters breathe a holy anxiety 
for the spiritual welfare of ell his kindred. 

Coelum, non ansimum, mutant, qui trans mare cur- 
runt ; — they change the climate, but not their disposition, 
who travel beyond sea. The maxim is true of the Chris- 
tian in a higher sense, than Horace meant it. External 
changes do but fix the attention of the " stranger and the 
pilgrim " more steadily on God. " All countries are my 
Father's lands," he says, " and in all countries still I am 
his child." And yet every christian knows, and some by 
distressing experience, how difficult it is to maintain un- 
broken and fervent communion with God, amidst jour- 
neyings among strangers, change of residence in many 
places, or much attention from many friends. These 
things lead often amidst scenes 

where Satan wages still 



His most successful war ; 



MEMOIR. 61 

and happy is he that endureth temptation among them ; 
for there is danger lest the soul, losing for a time both its 
sense of God's omnipresent inspection, and that sense of 
responsibility which the presence of those who know us, 
inspires, may fall into a worldly, barren, prayerless state, 
if not into the indulgence of gross sin. Henry seems 
all the while to have felt, whether travelling, or among 
friends, that he was still 

" The traveller betwixt life and death,' 

having the work of his Lord to accomplish, and amidst 
innumerable perils advancing to eternity. That he ad- 
vanced in the knowledge and love of Christ, during his 
absence from his native land, is most pleasingly evident. 
" The splendor and activity of every thing here," he 
writes in one of his earliest letters from Edinburgh, 
" wonderfully tend to impress me with the vanity of all 
else than the ( unsearchable riches of Christ / and my 
constant temptations make me know his preciousness. 
I think that I begin to love him with a simple and more 
ardent affection. I feel more and more need of being 
remembered (at the throne of grace) by my christian 
friends, lest I should by any means fall short of the hope 
of glory ; lest I should desert my best, my dearest friend." 
"How delightful it would be/' he writes in another let- 
ter, speaking of a national fast in Scotland, " to see one 
of the revivals, which are shedding such a lustre on the 
churches of our land. May God graciously continue 
them, and kindly permit me to live once more under their 
gracious sunshine ; and O ! the privilege to labor in the 
midst of them, unworthy as I am of such a distinguished 
honor." " To be a minister of the gospel, to proclaim 
salvation through Jesus Christ ! O my father ! my fa- 
ther ! what a blessed hope ! what honorable duties^ 
6 



62 MEMOIR. 

what sweet exercises! — It is when I think of this, and 
the great work of saving souls, and bringing honor to 
Jesus, that I feel humbled, — that I mourn I am so weak 
and unworthy, — that I feel new desires for grace and 
knowledge." 

In another letter, at about the same period, from Edin- 
burgh, he writes, " You say, dearest mother, that ' all are 
well and in prosperity ; ' — how much joy does this pour 
into my heart ! I too, by God's great mercy, am well, I 
hope, in some measure, in spirit, as in body. You say 
father is well and in good spirits ; you cannot think how 
happy this makes me. I see him before me — 1 put out 
my hand — I almost take hold of him ; and then some- 
times, when I pray for you all at home, I feel as if his 
breath fell softly on me, as it used to do when I was near 
the sofa, kneeling by him ; and I am led to think, that 
perhaps at this very time, the Spirit of God is gently 
falling as dew over the opening flower, upon his spirit. — 
You ' are all well/ To me, this is better than a book 
well written. May God supply you with every needed 
grace, from the fulness of his treasures, and give you 
many tokens of his love." 

After speaking in one of his letters of an accident 
which had cost him " weary days and sleepless nights, 
with unmitigated pain/' but from the severe effects of 
which he was now almost recovered, he continues thus : 

" I was about to say that I should unfortunately miss one 
or two of the lectures by my mishap, for they commence this 
week ; but I retract, for when I begin to repine, when my de- 
sires for intellectual advancement begin to excite a kind of im- 
patience of this long restraint, then do my better feelings 
exclaim, 

1 1 see a hand you cannot see ; 
I hear a voice you cannot hear :' 



MEMOIR. 63 

for fully sensible am I, that this is the Lord's doing, and that 
in my great waywardness and loftiness of mind, he hath chas- 
tened me, though in much tenderness. T can truly say, that 
it is well that J have been afflicted, for it has brought my mind 
nearer to that state of soberness and humility, so necessary in 
the approach to holy studies. Besides, I think amidst all my 
pains, I have had some reasons to rejoice in precious visits 
from that Divine Saviour, so inestimably dear to the broken 
and contrite heart. The ' unsearchable riches of Christ,' are 
indeed too deep and full, ever to be exhausted ; yet full and 
free as they are, they never satiate. How unlike the fading 
glories of earth." 

About this time Henry received a letter from his 
former companion at Andover, now a beloved missionary 
of the American Board, Rev. W. Schauffler. This letter 
is dated Dec. 2oth, 18-51, at Havre de Grace, the writer's 
" first resting place in Europe." " It is late," he says, 
" and I am to set out tomorrow morning, at 5 o'clock, for 
Paris, but I must not go before telling you that I am on 
dry ground, and not at the bottom of the ocean." The 
letter is written in Mr Schauffler's energetic strain of 
deep devotedness to Christ, and will be read with delight 
by all who knew him. We give the greater portion of it. 
After stating that they had " a truly terrible passage" 
from America, he continues : 

" But through all this we have been carried by Him, 
to whom all power in heaven and earth is given, and 
to Him shall everlasting thanks be given. We have had 
Christmas today, which has called to my mind and heart, 
many a delightful and sacred recollection, and has given 
me scope for profitable reflection during the day. ' God 
manifested in the flesh.' The great ' mystery of godliness,' 
how broad and deep ! It makes one humble and proud at 
the same time ; it is the centre and star of all theology and 



64 MEMOIR. 

religion, and I confess freely that where this mystery is want- 
ing, I would not give much for all the rest, as to the saving 
efficacy of it. How glad I am that God has not sent me to 
preach works, but grace and faith in and through his Son. 
What a dull, heartless business it would be, brother, if we 
were sent to preach mere morality ! But we have something 
to say that is higher ; not the works of man, but the work of 
God for man ; something soul-stirring, that goes through 
marrow and bone, as the Germans say. 

" I had a thousand things yet to say, but it is getting so late 
that I must close, though I regret to send to you so much white 
paper. You have already long ago settled down in your 
studies, and I hope soon to be settled, though but for a short 
season. You are in good company, I hope, and I long to hear 
of you. I will wait for a letter and then answer more fully. 
Formal letters you may not expect of me ; I write as I think 
and talk, and you know that is plain. May God bless and 
prosper you, and may he have mercy on me also. Let us 
cleave to Jesus Christ, the friend of dinners, the Lord of 
glory, the ruler of heaven and earth, God over all, and blessed 
forever. We can get no better friend in life, and death, 
and in the depths of the wild ocean. The w r orld knoweth 
him not, because they feel no need of him ; but we both need 
and know him, I hope. Let us pray for each other, but chiefly 
ask for rne, when you remember me, that Christ may become 
all in all to my poor, perishing soul. I perish without him, 
Blessed be his name forevermore,that he came into the world 
6 to save that which was lost.' 

" Let me hear from you soon. 

" Wishing you every needed grace out of the fulness of 
the Lord, I remain, 

" Your brother and fellow-pilgrim, 

"Wm. Schauffler." 

The following extracts from letters to his parents, writ- 
ten, the first in February, the second in March, 1833, from 
Edinburgh, evince increasing humility and love to Christ. 



MEMOIR. 65 

" I have this moment had the sweet satisfaction of receiving 
a letter from our beloved home. It has rendered me happy, 
grateful ; it animates rne in well doing ; it makes my heart 
flow with new desires to God ; it fills me with new solicitude 
to live, to labor, to spend and be spent, to die to his glory. 
Your remembrances are very sweet and precious to me. I 
trust that your prayers are refreshing me, for I begin to feel 
stronger desires to live to God ; not a sentimental, meagre, fruit- 
less life of cold speculation and profession; but through the 
grace of God a diligent, active, prayerful, earnest and useful one. 
If ever I have possessed the honest wish to be kept from sin, to 
be cleansed from all pollution of spirit, to be reserved and pre- 
pared for the great work, — still more now ! If ever I have felt 
the need of your prayers, for those earnest entreaties which take 
hold of that which is within the veil — still more now! If I 
have ever been sensible of the force, and malignity, and hate- 
fulness of indwelling sin, — still more now ! But God be prais- 
ed if I have ever been able to repose a confidence in Christ, 
a reliance on the well sustained energy of the spirit, a faith 
in the mighty efficacy of prayer, I think it is now. Do not 
cease to pray for me, that though I live in the flesh I may yet 
war with the flesh, so that every thought may be brought into 
captivity to the obedience of Christ. Pray that I may be 
kept in this very short, but awfully dangerous pilgrimage, that 
to live may be to fulfil the engagements of a servant to God ; 
to die may be to receive the rewards of a child of God," 

In the next he writes thus : 

" It is certainly the case, that the prospect of preaching the 
Gospel of Christ never appeared more delightful and honora- 
ble, in the best sense of the word, than it does at this moment 
to me. Never have I enjoyed higher conceptions of the 
sublimity of the christian enterprise to which the pulpit 
introduces the faithful servant of the Lord. But just as these 
contemplations take a more elevated range, just in that pro- 
portion do I the more clearly see my deficiencies, and tremble 
lest I should come short, not of your expectations, which I 
6* 



66 MEMOIR. 

fear I shall, for you build your hopes too high ; but of that 
perfection and faithfulness which is to be expected in an 
ambassador of Christ. Nevertheless I am comforted and 
sustained by the cheering assurance of our blessed Lord, ' In 
weakness thou shalt be perfected, my strength is sufficient for 
thee.' But my weakness is so great that I do strongly feel 
the need of all your prayers, that in meekness and gentleness 
of spirit, in purity and diligence I may adorn the doctrine of 
Christ in all things. Never have I had such faith in prayer 
as now possesses my heart, nor ever have I felt greater desire 
and need of it ; therefore do remember me often in your 
prayers that I may improve all my high privileges." 

During the same month in which this letter was writ- 
ten, March, 1832, and not long before leaving Edinburgh 
for his travels in England, France, and Italy, Henry 
seems to have solemnly renewed his covenant with God, 
under a deep and penitent sense of his own weakness 
and unworthiness ; trusting in Jesus for " wisdom, 
righteousness, sanctification and redemption, " and cast- 
ing himself, as a perishing sinner, entirely on God's 
free, sovereign, unmerited mercy, through the atoning 
sacrifice of his incarnate Son. We find among his 
papers the following covenant, prayer, and resolutions, 
drawn up in reliance on the Holy Spirit, and with special 
reference to present and expected circumstances of 
temptation. His trust was in the blood of Christ, and 
this paper shows with what trembling earnestness he 
desired to be guided by the will of his Divine Redeemer. 
It shows how deeply he felt the need of his Redeemer's 
presence, and of watchfulness over his own heart and 
conduct, that he might be kept from things that savored 
of death, and would draw him away from his God. These 
are the rules he prescribed for himself in his journeyings, 
and in the practice of them he was kept by the grace of 
Christ, according to his supplications. 






MEMOIR. 67 

" I love my shepherd's voice ) 
His watchful eyes shall keep 
My wandering soul among 
The thousands of his sheep." 

How blessed to be under the care of such a Redeem- 
er ! — to have for our shepherd the being who both 
created and died for us ; and through whose precious 
blood all that love him shall be brought home to glory ! 
He is a covenant-keeping God. Our departed friend we 
believe has found it so in a better world, and is now 
looking back from Heaven on ^11 the dealings of amazing 
mercy, with which his Lord led him in his earthly pil- 
grimage. 

" Edinburgh, Sunday, March, 24th, 1832. 

" Under a strong conviction of my past ingratitude and 
manifold transgressions against thee, my God and Saviour, 
and with a deep sense of my dependence upon thee, for pres- 
ent sanctification and counsel, as well as for future support 
amidst diverse and multiplied temptations, and with a grateful 
and reverent acknowledgement of thy past mercy and present 
goodness, I, as a frail mortal and contrite sinner, would desire 
to make with thee a solemn covenant. In doing so, I would 
desire to recognize the covenant relations in which I already 
stand to thee, once solemnly entered into, before God, angels, 
and men ; at the same time confessing with hearty contrition, 
that ofttimes hastily, unadvisedly, and too often deliberately, 
in defiance of thy law and wrath, I have trampled upon, as 
well as forgotten it. In establishing this once more in my 
heart and rendering it, with thy holy word, the rule of my 
life, oh Lord, through the blood of Christ have mercy on me. 
And now, graciously by thy Holy Spirit direct me in the ex- 
pression of my feelings, and deepen the determinations here 
recorded, of walking henceforth in the light of the Gospel of 
Christ, and by the indwelling of the spirit to thy glory. 

" I do rejoice to acknowledge thee as the author of that 
blessed revelation, which introduces the hope of glory to a 
ruined world, and in which thou standest brightly and glori- 



68 MEMOIR. 

ously displayed, as God the Father, the Son, and the Spirit, 
one God. 

"I do gladly record my full and cordial helief and hearty 
acceptance of the Old and New Testament, as an entire and 
perfect revelation, receiving it, as completely expressing thy 
will and purposes towards man, and gratefully acknowledg- 
ing it to be suited to my condition, and necessities, and fears, 
and hopes. I confess myself to be the lost, ruined, guilty, 
and infirm creature to which its admonitions and promises 
are so pointedly and pressingly addressed. To be, as there 
represented, under the bondage of the prince of the power 
of this world, trembling under the righteous wrath of the 
Almighty Father. I confess myself with shame and the 
deepest confusion of heart, by my manifold iniquities and 
perversities of feeling and conduct, to have so broken the pure, 
and righteous, and perfect law of God, as to have removed all 
hope of peace and pardon, except by such a sacrifice and 
propitiation as is there recorded, to the everlasting glory of 
God's perfected attributes, even the forgiveness wrought out 
by the incarnation and death of Jesus Christ, the dear Son of 
God, whom thankfully I recognize as Prophet, Priest, and 
King. And looking with wonder and fear at the corruptions 
of my nature, and its obstinate alienation from God, I do most 
sincerely believe in God the Spirit, as most mercifully suited 
to my distempered moral condition, and as affording the only 
cheering hope to my mind, of attaining unto a tried and un- 
wavering perfection. And so believing, I would render 
praise to this one God, humbly by him and through him seek- 
ing grace to live henceforth and forever to his honor, as thus 
displayed to man, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen. 

" And, oh God ! that I may the more entirely regard thy 
law always to keep it, and yield perfect obedience to thee, I do 
most humbly pray that thou wilt strengthen me to maintain the 
resolutions beneath recorded ; that getting the better of these 
my besetting sins, and successfully struggling against the trials 
to which the present circumstances of my life particularly 
expose me, I may, in due time, be prepared for the faithful 
discharge of the interesting and solemn duties to which 1 



MEMOIR. 69 

would wish to aspire, by thy grace, with a trembling, yet un- 
ceasing desire. For this end do I sincerely promise, 

" I. That I will more diligently regard thy word and provi- 
dence ; and cease not by prayer and supplication to draw 
more frequently and more sincerely near to thee. And es- 
pecially that in the daily walks and intercourse of life I will 
endeavor to avoid those objects and subjects which savor of 
death, and which cause the heart to wander far from God and 
the Saviour. And farther, that as far as it is consistent with 
circumstances and propriety, to render divine truth, wisdom 
and mercy the subjects of my conversation and thoughts, and 
always to look for the hidden connexion of God with all 
things, thus to make every study, prospect and pleasure ulti- 
mately subserve his glory. 

" II. That for this purpose I will more faithfully attend to 
every study, conversation, and duty, that my privileges may 
not be in vain in the Lord. 

" III. That I will carefully and prayerfully avoid every- 
thing which tends to excite or cherish the fell passions of my 
corrupt nature. I do, oh God ! make a covenant between my 
eyes and all other senses and thee, that through them sin may 
not have dominion over me. Do thou graciously ratify it. 

" IV. Determine to visit no object from mere curiosity, until 
fully satisfied that its influences on my mind will be bene- 
ficial. 

" V. Determine by the grace of God to subdue my pride — 

1. To disregard the looks, whether of praise or scorn, of men. 

2. To hold all flatteries, except the return of a good conscience, 
worthless. 3. Not to be led into useless expense, by the 
fear, or unsuitable and unwarranted expectations of society. 
4. To dare to do right, according to the standard of the Bible 
and example of Christ, with independence and simplicity, and 
without a ridiculous pride of heart. 

" VI. To speak cautiously, yet firmly, on all topics. To 
listen attentively to all opinions as in the presence of God. 
" VII. To be watchful in trifles. 
" VIII. To think more of eternal objects 
" IX. To restrain my appetites. 



70 



MEMOIR. 



"X. To be more attentive whilst at church. To unite 
more feelingly in every exercise. To exclude every worldly 
thought. To abstain from all idle curiosity. 

" XI. Each day remember in confession each specific sin 
of thought, or word, or deed." 

In May, 1832, Henry was in London, and among 
other similar blessings, enjoyed the inestimable privilege 
of spending much time with Mr Coleridge. Of a part- 
ing interview with him he gives the following brief but 
interesting account in one of his letters. In the journal 
will be found a more particular description of his ac- 
quaintance with Mr C. 

"Of all the men whom I have ever met, the most wonder- 
ful in conversational powers is Mr. S. T. Coleridge, in whose 
company I spent much time. With all his talent and poetry, 
he is a humble and devout follower of the blessed Jesus, even 
as * Christ crucified.' I wish I had room for some of his con- 
versation. When I bade him a last farewell, he was in bed, 
in great bodily suffering, but with great mental vigor, and feel- 
ing a humble resignation to the will of his heavenly Father. 
As I sat by his side I thought he looked very much like my 
dear grandfather, and I almost felt as if one spoke to me from 
the dead. Before I left him he said, ' I wish before you go, to 
give you some little memento to call up the hours we have 
passed together.' He requested me to hand him a book 
from his book-case, with pen and ink, then sitting up in bed 
he wrote a few lines and his name, kindly and most undeser- 
vedly expressing the pleasure he had had in my company. 
He will not live long I fear ; but his name and memory will 
be dearer to the ages to come than to the present." 

Shortly after this he was in Paris, but walking with 
God, in the midst of the " violence " and distractions and 
iniquities of that crowded city ; watchful he was over his 
own heart and mindful of his beloved friends, and seek- 



MEMOIR. 71 

ing the advancement of the Redeemer's kingdom, if we 
may judge from the imperfect notes, which he seems to 
have used as a help in meditating on the word of God, 
and in prayer. The following is a portion of those notes : 

"Proverbs 2. Thanks for this portion of Divine truth, be- 
cause of the assurance that God will instruct those who ■ re- 
cieve his words, and hide within them his commandments.' 
Blessed be God, he hath sealed his promise by a seal which 
neither the prince of this world, nor any other power can 
break. 

" Supplication, that wisdom may enter my heart, and knowl- 
edge become pleasant unto my soul. That the Holy Spirit 
may ever be present to check and combat the unholy, corrupt, 
and un instructed propensities of my nature. That I may be 
permitted daily to say, ' how pleasant is thy light to my eyes.' 
That all my faculties may be strengthened, the better to serve 
and glorify thee. Rule my habits of mind, — my address, 
utterance ; every thing that contributes to render thy people, 
and especially thy ministering servants useful. 

" Thanks, for past instructions and privileges — for preserva- 
tion, especially for the slumbers of the night and the bounties 
of the morning. 

"Confession and humiliation. 

" Wonder at God's long suffering, especially for particular 
forbearances. 

" Desires and promises, supplications for the day, for 
friends, &c. 

" In like manner, I entreat thy merciful remembrance for my 
dear family and friends. They are now present before thee. 
Thou art acquainted with their necessities. If they jo}^ in 
prosperity, thou knowest it ; if they sorrow in adversity, their 
mournings are not hidden from thee. Their joy thou canst 
confirm ; thou canst continue or even increase their prosperi- 
ty. Their sorrows thou canst mitigate; drying up all their 
tears. Thou canst remove the causes of sadness, and make all 
things go well with them. Unto whom but thee shall I com- 
mend them ; all my hope is in thee. Lord overrule all thy 



72 MEMOIR. 

providence for their advantage, and of thy rich mercy distri- 
bute uutothem benefits. Preserve those who enjoy the bles- 
sings of health. Console, heal, or assuage the pains of the 
sick. Let sickness be to them a cause of gratitude, by the 
truths it may lead them to reflect on, and the ' everlasting life ' 
to secure. If it be thy will, O heal them! If thou hast other- 
wise ordered, render them submissive, and prepare them for 
all thy will. Be thou their God. Sanctify to their improvement, 
the providences of each day, that knowing thee, their Saviour 
and their God, they may be prepared for all things. Continue 
health to my dear parents ; let their days be many and pleasant 
in the land of che living; bless them in all things, especially 
let them receive comfort and honor from the children of their 
love; plenteousness of gratitude for their kindness, and care, 
and wise governance, from earliest youth ; thus make their 
latter days their best days. I commend to thee my brothers 
and sisters. Preserve them from the evils and defilements 
of the world, &c." 

The following extract is from a letter to his parents, 
written at Rome. Speaking of the sickness of a friend, 
he says : 

" Thus God by tribulation purifies his people as gold tried in 
the fire seven times. How deep must be the mystery of sin, 
when the earth is visited with so many evils because of it! 
How infinite its malignity, when the son of God only could 
expiateit — the spirit of God only purge us from it, and that, by 
how many means, and how long time — precepts, command- 
ments, promises, warnings, stripes, and all that circle o 
blessings and goodness, which we are continually disturbing by 
the force of our evil nature. With such a nature I do not 
wonder that besides Christians, there should be two classes of 
persons who should take such opposite measures to quiet the 
fears of a guilty conscience ; the one, those who attribute to God 
an indiscriminate mercy, that is to say, a mercy not under" the 
restraint of justice; the other, arraying him with a justice that 
may be softened down by penance and bodily privations — a 



MExMOlR. 73 

mercy that may be purchased by largesses and monkish ex- 
ternals. How excellent and consoling on the other hand is it, to 
confess ourselves to be what we are before him, guilty sinners, 
under the burden of a fearfully corrupt nature — receive with 
joy his blessed revelation, accept with gratitude his promises 
of pardon and salvation to the repenting sinner, who believes 
in his dear Son's death and merits — looking also to that 
same promise for the sanctification of our undying spirits. 
This is what our nature demands — it is what God in his re- 
velation has given. But whilst it is his blessed spirit that 
sanctifies our souls, by his power overcoming every difficulty, 
how beautifully and naturally does he seize on the circum- 
stances around us to achieve that purpose. With what ener- 
gy does he use them. What power he gives to christian 
friends and christian communion. And this in no country 
more than in America. What privileges you enjoy there. I 
do not mean simply over France and Italy, w T here these things 
are unknown ; nor over Switzerland, Germany, and Prussia, 
where their weakness is deplorable ; but even over England 
and religious Scotland. Because in every part of the world, 
except America, the world and church are so closely united, 
and their elements so mixed up together, that no strong and 
collective outgoing can be made by the one on the other. 
Indeed, over a large part of Europe there is but one party, 
and that is lost in the pursuit of pleasure and indulgence. 
In Italy, the priests are paid to manage the matters of the 
hereafter, whilst the people are lost as well to morality, as 
to religion. However, corrupt as the moral sentiment is, I 
confess that one sees little, except in the paintings and stat- 
ues, that would shock his decency. This is owing to the 
worst of vices being so common, that they may be indulged 
in without notice. Moral corruption therefore has so nearly 
reached its limit in this country, that w T e may soon hope to 
see a change marked with happy results ; however, this can- 
not be anticipated whilst the sway of the priesthood holds it 
with such a grasp. Let us rejoice then that France is so 
nearly free from their trammels and so open to receive the 
word of the living God." 
7 



'4 MEMOIR. 

The commencement of the following extract from a 
letter written while at Rome, makes one think of trie 
feelings of Goldsmith's " Traveller/' in the remembrance 
of a brother's home. 

" Remote, unfriended, melancholy, slow, 
Or by the lazy Scheldt, or wandering Po, 
Where'er I roam, whatever realms to see, 
My heart, untravelled, fondly turns to thee." 

" I am truly weary of living so long away from such friends 
as can only be found at a father's fireside. But that time will 
at length, I trust, arrive. Surely God has been very gracious 
to me since we parted, and my confidence is still in him. I 
have often thought of the prayer and vow of Jacob; had I 
made it, and I believe it has not unfrequently been the feeling 
of my heart, its obligation should be very binding on me. < If 
God will be with me, and keep me in the way that I go, and 
will give me bread to eat, and raiment to put on, so that I 
come to my father's house in peace, then shall the Lord be my 
God.' And thus far has he not kept me ? I long once more 
to be in Scotland, and particularly at home, that I may be 
with those who love and fear him. At present I find little 
social christian enjoyment. Since I have been at Rome ihere 
has been no Sabbath service, it being too early in the season. 
Of course the Catholic services are nothing — rather they 
are sufficient to make the feeling heart bleed. Today, for in- 
stance, in a chapel near St John Lateran, I went to see one of 
the comfortless ceremonies of the Romish church. On en- 
tering the door, five flights of steps rose steeply up before us, 
perhaps thirty to thirtyfive to each flight. Those on the sides 
were of travestine marble; the central flight was of white 
marble, planked over, yet in such a manner as to show the 
steps beneath, which were evidently much worn away. These 
steps are said to be the same that stood before the door of Pilate 
in Jerusalem, and which our Saviour ascended previous to his 
crucifixion. This belief of course attaching a sacredness 
to them, has been improved by the priests to an idolat rous 



MEMOIR. '£> 

purpose, so that every day crowds may be seen ascending them 
on their knees, to which a great merit is attached. When I 
entered, a priest stood at the door with a tin or iron box, with 
paintings of the Saviour and Virgin on it ; with this he followed 
me, ever and anon giving it a loud rattle, at the same time 
beggiug me to give him something to support the chapel. 
There were crowds of miserable devotees ascending these 
stairs when I entered. Passing up on their knees, they kiss 
the marble through holes made for the purpose, and having 
kissed a picture of our Saviour at the top, they descend by 
some of the other stairways. I went up by one of these, for 
to have stood on the principal one, would have been esteemed 
little less than sacrilege. Arriving at the top I had a view of 
the poor sufferers working out their weary penance. Many 
were very old and weak, and their wrinkled brows grew damp 
as they drew their stiff limbs up the stairs. Is this, thought 
I, the ' light yoke and the easy burden,' for which the hard 
endurances of the Mosaic ceremonies were to be exchang- 
ed ? How many thirsty souls are seeking relief at their 
broken cisterns all in vain. Or if over their hard penance or 
amongst their gilded altars, a broken spirit catches here and 
there a glimpse of the Saviour's presence, yet with the most 
extended charity, we must believe that this is but too seldom." 

The time was now drawing near when Henry would 
be permitted to retrace his steps homeward. He had 
wandered long and far enough to be weary of wandering, 
to see much of the world, and to feel more and more 
deeply, that though in all the world there is no place like 
home, yet here or there, at home or abroad, the Christian 
is a stranger and a pilgrim. He had seen the world in 
many aspects, splendor, and misery, gayety, folly and sin ; 
folly and sin in all ; yet here and there a spot cultivated 
by God's grace, and made sweet and pleasant for the 
child of God to dwell in. He had enjoyed many and 
great privileges, especially the friendship and instruction 
of Dr Chalmers, in his theological studies; and now 



76 MEMOIR. 

with a heart full of hope, he looked forward to the period 
when the mercy might be granted him to consecrate his 
acquisitions to Jesus, in the blessed employment of pro- 
claiming salvation through the blood of his Lord. Still, 
he could not leave Scotland without regret, much as he 
loved his own home, and longed to be restored once more 
as an inmate in its domestic circle. For in Edinburgh 
particularly, he had formed the most pleasing and af- 
fectionate christian acquaintance, had experienced great 
kindness, and to some, the piety and amiableness of 
his feelings, conversation, and deportment, had endeared 
him even as a brother. They speak of him as such. 

" Were I not about to leave Edinburgh, 7 ' he writes in 
April, 1833, " for a dearly loved home, I should do it with 
deep regret. For I have experienced here the most 
affectionate and polite attention on every side. It some- 
times makes me feel very sad and humble to think how 
undeserving I am of it. I think, mother, you would 
have wept, if you had witnessed the touching kindness 
of some of my parting scenes. Really, it is quite in- 
comprehensible to me, that they should have entertained 
so much regard for a stranger of so little merit as myself. 
I am persuaded that no little of it is to be ascribed to 
the prayers put up for me from a distant land." 

In the same letter, speaking of the death of a lamented 
christian friend, he says, " I remember him well, espe- 
cially the love he bore the church. We have sustained 
a deep loss by his removal, but I trust he has found it a 
rich gain. He has received a heavenly crown ; and well, 
in a world of temptation and trouble like this, might his 
friends around him rejoice, when on the verge of that 
eternity, where the mimic happiness caught from earthly 
things is torn from the heart, he could say " all is peace*" 



MEMOIR. 77 

My dear parents, if we can only say, * all is peace,' then 
may we put death under foot, because we cannot do so, 
unless Christ has destroyed his sting ; and the sting of 
death is sin, and the blood of Christ cleanseth from all 
sin." 

Had Henry's life been continued in this world, and 
had he been permitted in God's great mercy to bear the 
sacred office to which he so humbly but ardently aspired, 
doubtless it would have been his supreme delight to 
preach Christ and Mm crucified. That would have been 
his theme. He could say with his beloved brother 
Schauffler, that he was thankful that he was not sent to 
preach works, but grace. His own delightful experience 
of the preciousness of the doctrines of redemption he 
could contrast with his former experience. 

He wrote a sermon on the atonement (probably it was 
written while at Edinburgh, and perhaps was among his 
first), rich in thought and feeling, on that glorious theme. 
His text he chose in the words " God manifest in the 
flesh." " I know of no other truth," he says, " that has 
such claims upon a minister of God, or is so worthy of 
the repeated consideration of moral beings. Indeed, it is 
the central truth, in which all other truths meet." — 
" The same glorious truth brightens along the whole 
pathway of divine revelation, now glimmering through 
some distant prophecy, and now casting a sunlight radi- 
ance from the pages of the Gospel." 

In considering the cause of this astonishing manifes- 
tation of God in the flesh, he takes occasion to remark, 
that "it was not merely to communicate truth to man. 
Much truth had already been afforded, by divine in- 
spiration. Prophets of old time had been favored with 
rich communications of truth from above, which stood 

commended to man, both by its reasonableness and by 

7 * 



78 MEMOIR. 

the miraculous deeds with which its authority was sealed. 
Were it only a further supply of spiritual knowledge 
which men needed, then any necessary addition might 
have been made in the same manner as before, by holy 
men like Moses, David, Isaiah, commissioned from above; 
men highly favored by God, and beloved ; but of any of 
whom it would have been blasphemy to have said, ' He 
is God manifest in the flesh.' 

" Neither was it merely to show forth in his life, the 
beauty of holiness. It is true, a surpassing loveliness 
rests upon his character. It is impossible for the Chris- 
tian to contemplate it without admiration and improve- 
ment. It is true that in him truth is seen in its most 
pleasing form, embodied in action. We behold in him 
all that he recommends others to be ; so that there is no 
act of moral excellence, which does not find a beautiful 
illustration among the deeds of his brief history. He 
came to instruct us in holiness, but as high a place as 
that may hold, it is not the distinguishing purpose of his 
mission to earth. Man could have been invested with a 
character suited to such an embassy ; but none other 
than ' God manifest in the flesh/ was adequate to sus- 
tain that, on which Christ came to lay down his life for 
ours. He came to make an atonement for our sins. He 
came, that through the eternal Spirit he might offer him- 
self without spot unto God for our transgressions, the just 
for the unjust, that he might bring us to God. It was to 
deliver us from the curse of the Law, and the power of 
death and sin that ' God was manifest in the flesh.' " 

In showing the nature of sin, and the necessity of the 
great expiatory sacrifice of the law of life and glory, 
he refers to the spirituality of God's law. " Many per- 
sons mistake an earthly standard of morality for the pure 
and spiritual law of God. There cannot be a greater 



MEMOIR. 79 

mistake ; there is not a more dangerous one. The error 
is abroad in society, and many are deceived by its pleas- 
ing and beguiling form. The error consists in separating 
duty from motive, and exalting the social virtues to that 
place which belongs to pure holiness, respect and love for 
God. I do not disparage the social virtues ; these affections 
I admire ; they give a charm to the character of the per- 
sons distinguished for them. How amiable a sight is 
that of a father caressing his child, watching over it with 
deep and delighted attention; how attractive is a mother's 
love, as she stifles her own pain, and lulls with music 
like that of the dying swan, her little one to rest. It is 
delightful to repose the weary heart on such traits of 
character. They are amiable, but they are not strictly 
religious. The father may love and cherish his child, 
and yet the love of God be absent from the heart The 
mother may love her offspring, and yet love not her God. 
Natural affection is not religion. 

" Men may be very active in the ordinary duties of 
life, distinguished for their veracity in business, for their 
virtues as citizens, for their benevolence among the poor 
in their vicinity, and yet may be destitute of any princi- 
ples of piety. And if the love of God be not there, as a 
deep, vigorous, disinterested principle, it is the meagre, 
earthly, accommodating, sinful principle of love to self, 
from which all his activity originates. Everything has 
a place in his mind but God ; his respectability, his fam- 
ily, his children, his friends, his country — these fill the 
whole compass of his mind, to the exclusion of his Maker, 
and he is in the condition of those who ' worship the 
creature instead of the Creator.' God's love has never 
been shed abroad in his heart, and he is living without 
God and without hope in the world. Be not deceived ; 
God is not mocked. His spiritual law demands not only 



80 MEMOIR. 

that you should love your neighbor as yourself, but that 
you should love God with all your heart, and might, and 
soul, and strength. It demands perfect obedience in 
thought, word, and deed. And God is just, and when 
he is merciful, it is according to the laws of immutable 
justice ; he does not violate one principle of his character 
in order to exercise another. His mercy is not a senti- 
mental pity, but a holy attribute. We are not under an 
earthly standard, but a spiritual cne. It demands per- 
fection. It bears upon its front this unyielding principle, 
' Whosoever shall keep the whole law, and yet offend in 
one point, he is guilty of all.' The law therefore does not, 
cannot, bring mercy. It never compromises. Conscience 
condemns, and the law thunders from afar, ' The soul 
that sinneth, it shall surely die.' 

" The mission of Christ, then, had no humble object. 
Divinity was not embodied in the flesh, but for a won- 
drous enterprise. He came to deliver man from the 
awful peril in which he was placed by sin. He came to 
meet the fearful violence of that law, which could not be 
broken with impunity. By his manifestation in the flesh, 
by his perfect righteousness, and by his last sufferings, 
was the expiation for sin made, the appalling power of 
sin vanquished, and death trodden under foot. Such was 
the purpose of God's manifestation of himself to the 
world. ' This is love, not that we loved God, but that 
he loved us, and gave his son to die for us.' " 
- In the inscrutable providence of God, Henry was not 
permitted to preach the gospel that he loved. His early, 
unexpected removal from his Lord's service in this world, 
to his Lord's presence and praises in heaven, while it is 
unspeakable gain to him, is meant for unmingled good to 
those who loved him. If they loved him in the Lord, 
and are now pilgrims to that same heavenly Jerusalem, 



MEMOIR. 81 

in whose golden palaces we believe he is walking, then 
all these things are for their good, and he is saying to 
them, "Quicken your footsteps and come up hither ! " 
If they are impenitent strangers and foreigners, alienated 
from God. then his death is to them, an unspeakably 
solemn warning; and he is saying to them, " Oh ! let 
not those so dear to me on earth, be lost from heaven ! 
Prepare to meet your God ! " 

The disappointment of his own earthly wishes, in re- 
spect to the sacred ministry, and the destruction of the 
fondest hopes entertained by his friends in regard to him, 
while it teaches them a thoughtful, afflictive lesson of re- 
signation, humility and preparation for death, throws 
around his memory a more endearing interest, and prob- 
ably increases, (now that he sees no longer " as through 
a glass darkly, " the dealings of his adorable Redeemer,) 
his own happiness among the saints in glory. It is a 
blessed company. 

They all are gone into a world of light, 
Their very memory is fair and bright. 

They will be redeemed out of every kindred, and 
tongue, and people, and nation, and in making up his 
jewels in heaven, God will have them of every variety 
and lustre. It is a fine remark of Archhishop Leighton, 
that " the church is God's jewelry, his workhouse, where 
his jewels are polishing for his palace and house. He 
hath many sharp tools for their polishing ; and those he 
most esteems, and means to make the most resplendent, 
he hath oftenest his tools upon." The discipline his 
children are called to encounter here, fits them for the 
place they are destined to fill in mansions of rest in eter- 
nity. There will be those removed in the early morning ; 
those taken from amidst the burden and heat of the day; 



82 MEMOIR. 

and those who were permitted to labor even to its close, 
till the shades of the evening came. There will be " babes 
and sucklings," translated to the heavenly world to per- 
fect the praise of that renewing grace, through which 
they were fitted on earth for the abodes of the blessed. 
There will be children, taken, as it were, from school, 
appearing in heaven itself, in all the simplicity of child- 
hood. There will be youthful seraphs, removed while 
just beginning to show forth the praises of Him, who 
called them from darkness to light ; and there will be aged 
saints, full of years and graces, gathered like shocks of 
corn fully ripe. There will be disciples, who had but 
entered on the ministry of reconciliation ; and there will 
be those who labored in it many long years, and had 
many souls as the seals of their ministry. And we may 
suppose that in heaven, varieties in christian charac- 
ter will be observed as here on earth. Perhaps (if we 
are so happy as to be there) we shall forever behold in 
sweet distinction amidst agreement, such contrasts of 
character as are to be found on earth in men like Spen- 
ser and Swartz ; the youthful animation of the first, 
glowing beside the affectionate, serene, experienced, and 
confiding sanctity of the other. 

When the subject of this memoir was called way, he 
was apparently growing in grace, and what was always 
pleasing in the natural features of his character, was be- 
coming still more delightful under the influence of chris- 
tian feeling. If any are disposed to think there is too 
much of the partiality of friendship in these pages, let 
them remember 

" That they whom death has hidden from our sight, 
Are worthiest of the mind's regard ; with these 
The future cannot contradict the past : 
Mortality's last exercise and proof 



MEMOIR. 83 

Is undergone ; the transit made that shews 
The very soul revealed as it departs." 

This sentiment so beautiful and true in Wordsworth's 
poetry, that poet has made not less beautiful, and worthy 
to be remembered on an occasion like this, in his own 
prose. " What purity and brightness is that virtue cloth- 
ed in, the image of which must no longer bless our living 
eyes ! The character of a deceased friend or beloved kins- 
man is not seen, no, nor ought to be seen, otherwise than 
as a tree through a tender haze or a luminous mist, that 
spiritualizes and beautifies it ; that takes away indeed, 
but only that the parts which are not abstracted may 
appear more dignified and lovely, may impress and affect 
the more. Shall we say then that this is not truth, not a 
faithful image; and that accordingly the purposes of 
commemoration cannot be answered ? — It is truth, and 
of the highest order ! for, though doubtless things are 
not apparent w r hich did exist ; yet the object being look- 
ed at through this medium, parts and proportions are 
brought into distinct view, which before had been imper- 
fectly or unconsciously seen : it is truth hallowed by love 
— the joint offspring of the worth of the dead, and the 
affections of the living." g. b. c. 

We now proceed with Henry's Journal. It commences 
with a brief notice of a trip up the North River, written 
on the day he sailed from New York : and is followed by 
a description of the voyage to Liverpool ; from which we 
have extracted, what seemed to us to be the most inter- 
esting passages. The pages which then succeed, con- 
sisting of the description of his route from Liverpool to 
Edinburgh, and his short excursion to the lakes of 



84 MEMOIR. 

Scotland, were written by him after his return from 
abroad, and immediately before his sickness. He had 
determined to write a work on Great Britain, after his 
return, and had made some progress, when his labors 
were arrested by death. 



JOURNAL 



CHAPTER I. 

A Trip up the Hudson to West Point — Voyage from New York to 
Liverpool. 

New York, Sept. 15, 1831. — Yesterday we went up 
the North River, as far as West Point. The views were 
very fine ; the character of its scenery is wild and fre- 
quently sublime. The river is deep and its current 
strong, the banks bold and precipitous, covered with a 
short, thick copse-wood. One of the most striking, and 
to me most interesting spots on the passage was Stoney 
Point. This was the scene of that bloody struggle in 
which our dear grandfather took so prominent and hon- 
orable a part. It is a point, projecting itself into the 
river, lifting itself up like a giant from the waters, frown- 
ing and formidable. In West Point I well recognised 
mother's picture, the design of which I esteem very 
correct and faithful to nature. In beholding the birth- 
place of my higher and better self, I cannot describe 
what were my emotions. But I am forced to stop. I 
depart today in good spirits. May all rich blessings, 
spiritual and temporal, be with you and all whom I 
love, and the true God dwell in all their hearts for ever- 
more. 

8 



86 JOURNAL. 

On the 16th September the passengers of the good ship 
Caledonia left the Battery, at New York, in a steamboat 
for the ship, then riding at anchor in the narrows. We 
w r ere soon on board, and quickly the receding land 
melted from our view. 

Sept. 18. I have just heard of an awful accident which 
occurred about three o'clock this morning. The sky was 
dark and tempestuous, the wind was blowing a hur- 
ricane. Our hands were all on deck, or on the reeling 
masts, endeavoring to take in sail, of which much had 
already been torn to rags by the raging wind. Our ves- 
sel was rushing with ungovernable fury through the 
bursting foam, when from the womb of darkness, a small 
schooner with mad speed came directly upon our course. 
A moment of unavailing agony, and with a terrible jar 
our bows met ; a short and fierce struggle, and we tore 
by, carrying down a shower of her spars, our own bow- 
sprit shivered to pieces ; she could scarce be distinguished 
as she drove round by our side, and in a moment she was 
hidden in darkness. In the morning no traces were seen 
of the unfortunate vessel. May God grant her a deliver- 
ance. No wreck, no spar was upon the wide sea. She 
was lost in the distance, or buried forever in the bottom- 
less deep. But all who walked her deck that night in 
fancied security, were not now amongst the probationers 
of life. Judge the horror that pervaded every mind, 
when the first light of morning that was sprinkled on the 
w r aters, discovered to our view amongst the tangled rig- 
ging that trailed along our bows, a human being, crushed 
to pieces, bloody and frightful to look upon ; so dreadfully 
mutilated was he, that it was not deemed best, or no one 
had the heart to take him on board. The ropes were 
drawn up which held him, and he sank in the deep, to 
rise no more until the morning of the resurrection. Thus 



JOURNAL. 87 

was a soul unwarned, hurried in a moment from time to 
eternity. Truly life is but a vapor that continueth but 
an instant, and then passeth away. 

Sept. 19. A lovely day. The breeze is truly delicious. 
The heavens are of the softest blue ; a few snowy clouds 
float over its bosom ; here and there the sea-bird dips his 
white pinions in the azure deep, or with many circles now 
hovers near our bark, now is lost beneath the distant 
horizon. The waters are surpassingly beautiful. The 
swimming liquid drinks in the colors of the sky, even as 
eye takes life and rapture in from eye. As the smile 
and mirth of childhood quickens the parent's heart, stir- 
ring the deepest feelings of his nature, so the life and 
playfulness of this bright sea, its heaving bosom, its 
transparent waves, its varied, rich and melting hues, like 
liquid pearl swimming with gems, fills me with admira- 
tion and joy. If this, the thing created, swells thus with 
life and beauty, what then art thou, its great progenitor ! 
In all things infinite, holy, just, and good. 

Sept. 23. I was pleased this morning by the remark 
of a gentleman, exhibiting kindness and real politeness 
of feeling, (though 1 fear nothing more.) He observed, 
" Well, I hope you have not heard me use any profane 
language lately t" I replied, " I am happy to say, sir, 
that I have not, 5 ' adding a word or two more. A few 
days since I had taken the liberty in a private manner, of 
pointing out to him the nature of the irreverent mention 
of God's most holy name, especially the fearful remem- 
brances it would occasion at death, and before the bar 
of the King of kings. We begin to have discussions and 
conversations on the great subject of religion occasionally 
on board. I prefer the latter altogether ; the effect is 
much more salutary, and the impression much more 



88 JOURNAL. 

deep. If it was not for the wine, something might be 
hoped. 

Sabbath, Sept. 26. — Noon. We expected to have had 
prayers this morning on board, but from various circum- 
stances have not been able. We anticipate, however, 
that pleasant solemnity, this afternoon. I must confess 
that in view of it, my mind has been in a very trembling 
state; but I feel now more strong in the Lord, relying 
on his presence and guidance. I humbly hope that God 
may bless the exercise, with his accompanying and pow- 
erful spirit, to the conviction of some of my dying fellow 
men, and to the edification of those of his people who are 
on board. 

Sept. 28. We were not able to have prayers, as 
was the desire of my heart, as I think I may say, not- 
withstanding the fears with which I should have conduct- 
ed that solemn and interesting service, on Sabbath 
afternoon. It was rainy and drizzly. Thinking that 
some good however might be done, I went down into the 
hold where the steerage passengers were collected, 
though a most foul and disagreeable place, and to an 
attentive audience, read the " Dairyman's Daughter." 
The scene was impressive to my mind, and attended with 
pleasant and soothing recollections. On closing, I said 
a few words on the influence which I hoped the tract 
might exert on the eternal destinies of some present, and 
then left it with one of them, silently praying that God 
would accept the poor service for the sake of his dear 
Son, and sanctify it to the hearts of many. 

I have just visited the same place again, to see a sick 
man, and afford him some of the little comforts which 
God in his goodness has dispensed to me. The richest 
satisfaction which wealth, or a removal from sharp want 
produces, is that content and joy of mind, and holy 



JOURNAL. by 

peace, which the supply of hunger, or the alleviation of 
pain in the poor and sick around, gives to him, who 
though rich in substance, desires like Christ, to be poor 
in spirit. I am sure that the little kindnesses and gifts 
of this morning will be blessed to my spiritual advance- 
ment, for I certainly desired to give willingly, in God's 
name. I find that even on the contracted deck of a ship, 
there is room to exercise all of the christian graces. I 
pray that none of these bright jewels may be dimmed by 
me. 

Sept. 30. Very gusty and unpleasant, but favorable 
for a rapid voyage. We are now, on the fourteenth 
day of our passage, about seven hundred miles from land. 
A week, and God sparing our lives, and continuing 
favorable breezes, and we shall place foot on the far- 
famed shores of England. 

I long for land and the companionship of those illus- 
trious men with whom I hope to associate. I long once 
more to meet Christians. Absence from holy society 
teaches us how to prize it. Little have I heard here 
about God, or Christ, or heaven, except in some discus- 
sion which I occasionally contrive to introduce, to lead 
their minds, not from indifference to opposition, but by 
giving a serious turn to the argument, to reflection and 
seriousness. 

October 3. Yesterday read the Scriptures and united 
in prayer with the passengers of the cabin, the sea 
being too rough to hold a general meeting on deck. 
Felt deeply impressed with the solemnity of the occa- 
sion, though somewhat incommoded and interrupted by 
the heavy plunges of the vessel. The services seemed 
to fix a seriousness upon those present — but dinner and 
wine tends fearfully to check those thoughtful and grave 

emotions which such a scene in the breast of a guilty and 
8 * 



90 JOURNAL. 

frail creature must inevitably excite. We have many 
discussions on board, which draw out truth, and lead me 
more and more to admire the beauty and harmony of all 
its parts. He who carries out the philosophy of the Bible, 
need never shrink from the results to which it will lead 
him ; for truth is always consistent with itself. It is too 
little, not too full and fair investigation that finds inextri- 
cable difficulties. Thus is it in the Bible ; full informa- 
tion of all its parts is certainly followed by a perception 
of the truth, wisdom, excellence and harmony of the 
whole. 

October 5. We are now just running by Tuscar light, 
on the southeast part of Ireland, with a fair sky and fine 
breeze. How different from yesterday. On Tuesday 
morning, about seven o'clock, we saw land for the 
first time ; it was the southwestern coast of Ireland. The 
sun rose from the sea with great splendor — over the 
broad sky not a cloud was to be seen. A dim line of 
haze only skirted the horizon. Yet this was soon rolled 
over the heavens, the sun was hidden — deep mists hung 
all" around — gusts of wind were frequent, and fitful 
showers completely drenched our canvas, and drove us 
to the cabin for protection. The captain deemed it pru- 
dent to make an offing, and made about thirty or forty 
miles southeast from the iron bound coast of Ireland. 
The precaution was a fortunate one. About half past 
four the wind began to blow a tremendous gale. Black 
and massive clouds drove fearfully over the heavens. 
The rage of the ocean was terrific. Its waves, of a deep 
green, would rise like mountains, with their threatening 
tops around us, when a fierce wind blowing as if over 
high piles of snow, they would be broken to pieces, and 
the foam would fly like clouds over the deep. 

In the midst of this wild scene, when anxiety was 



JOURNAL. 91 

marked on every countenance, the sun burst out with 
awful magnificence. Never did I witness anything 
so solemn and impressive. It appeared to me like the 
coming of the " Son of Man," at the last day. At length 
the wind began to subside, and fortunately to change. 
We had been driving with ungovernable speed towards 
the Irish coast ; a few hours, and our strong ship would 
have been shivered to pieces where the Albion and its 
crew found destruction and watery graves. Thus day by 
day do God's mercies continue to preserve us. How 
often have I thought with tranquillity as the winds and 
waves vexed themselves; and the clouds blackened, " who 
shut up the sea with doors, when it brake forth, as it had 
issued forth out of the womb?" Even the hearer of 
prayer, who still hath the balancing of the clouds, and 
the restraining of the deep. 

In the afternoon of the fifth, we came in view of the 
mountainous coast of Wales. Here we beheld at a dis- 
tance, through a dim veil of mist, the summits of Snow- 
don, the highest mountain in Wales. In the evening we 
stood by Holyhead, and the next morning we were en- 
tering the harbor of Liverpool. 



CHAPTER II. 

Arrival in the Mersey — Liverpool — Eagle Hotel at Liverpool —-The 
Adelphi — Carriages — Cemetery at Liverpool — Society at Liverpool 
—Public Buildings — • Nelson's Monument — Custom House — . Markets. 

After a voyage of twenty days our ship dropped an- 
chor in the Mersey. The green fields on either side were 
those of our ancient father-land. A few white and 
compact villages were scattered along the shores. Here 
and there mansions embowered in trees, and with lawns 
and gravel-walks before them, with one or two church 
steeples, peeping up above the thick foliage, gave a pic- 
turesque beauty to the scene. Green hedges of hawthorn 
supplied the place of our wooden fences and stone walls ; 
the fields were not planted with apple orchards as thickly 
as in our own land, but the regular furrows with which 
nearly the whole landscape was sketched over, indicated 
a high state of cultivation. The undulations were soft, 
and if therefore less striking than the steep hill sides, 
retired valleys, and melting lines of beauty which distin- 
guish our scenery, they at least communicated a spirit of 
unity and studied proportion to the whole view. 

The scene would have been much easier pencilled than 
those usually found in the vicinity of our cities ; because 
where there were villages the houses are not merely clus- 
tered together, but stood side by side in undeviating lines, 
and instead of our lovely white cots and villas, a few prom- 



JOURNAL; 93 

inent mansions reigned over the whole scene. We were 
near enough to one of these to see a servant in livery 
leading up a pair of saddle horses, on which a gentleman 
and lady mounted and rode gracefully off, until w r e lost 
sight of them behind a grove of trees. " I declare," 
said a fellowrcountryman on board, "that lady wears her 
husband's hat capitally." And I afterwards remarked 
that this was the usual head-dress of ladies when on 
horseback. It was singular to my eyes, but it certainly 
had an air of security. 

The day was delicious. A few white clouds only 
floated over the blue sky, casting their flying shade over 
the green fields and bright water. It seemed to lend a 
sweeter loveliness to the scene. In the midst of this 
transparent air there was a dense cloud. It rose up 
amongst a forest of masts, lines of houses, turrets, and 
steeples ; it was the smoke, which like an evil spirit, 
hangs day and night over the great city of Liverpool. 

A little black steamer now came briskly up to us. It 
was a custom-house boat. It received our letters and 
also the cabin passengers, and in a few minutes we were 
running rapidly by the docks, whose massive walls of 
stone shut up the shipping of this commercial metropo- 
lis. Here and there the large basins communicated by 
tide gates with the water of the river. The regular 
character of these docks, and the peculiar slope given to 
the yards of all the vessels which fill them, has an im- 
posing appearance. You discover the extent of its 
commerce at a glance. Perhaps this unity made it appear 
to me more extensive than it really was ; for my impres- 
sion was that the shipping in the harbor at that time did 
not fall much short of that of New York and Boston 
combined. I was disappointed with the appearance of 
the stores along the docks. They were built of brick, 



94 JOURNAL. 

but the brick was not only irregular in shape when com- 
pared with ours, but its face was rough and much soiled 
with dust and coal smoke. A dark piazza ran along 
their front, the face of the buildings resting on square 
pillars. 

As far as we could see all was bustle. Heavy drays 
and large wagons drawn by huge horses loaded with 
cotton, thundered over the pavements ; and a thousand 
blended sounds assailed our ears as we reached our land- 
ing place. A grim crowd awaited us there — forty or 
fifty drivers held up their whip handles to engage our 
attention. " Coach, your honor," " Coach, sir," were re- 
iterated by as many voices from persons whose dirty hands 
and faces and ragged garb did not offer a flattering 
promise for the beauty and cleanliness of their vehicles. 
Their claim to our notice was disputed by about a hun- 
dred or two other persons ranging far beneath them in 
personal cleanliness. 

Such a set of characters were perhaps never collected 
in our country. A dozen thrust themselves forward, 
" Shall I carry your baggage, your honor," " your um- 
brella;" " Shall I show you to the Adelphi, to the Mer- 
sey Hotel," &,c, cried others ; here were women ready 
to sell the " gemmen" oranges, and here the suspicious 
children of the wandering nation ready to buy " old 
clothes ;" in all a motley group. This was not so pain- 
ful. But to regard the group of ragged, wretched, lame 
and miserable creatures that had collected round us, as 
if we had been the last resource upon which their hopes 
rested, this was enough to rend one's heart. For such 
piteous tones and fearful accounts of their famishing 
condition I never before heard faltered forth from the 
tongues of human beings. It was the first phalanx of a 
class, that I afterwards found eating the bread of bitter- 



JOURNAL. 95 

ness in large numbers through all the cities of Great 
Britain. Trained as our eyes are to see only well fed — 
decent and comfortable persons, even in the lowest rank 
in America, walking amongst the grim assemblage of an 
English crowd, even what is really elegant and neat is 
for a period almost unnoticed, until the first shock which 
so much distress and poverty makes on the feelings has 
subsided. An Englishman, so far as respects his enjoy- 
ment of what is beautiful, is disciplined into an entire 
disregard for these elements, which enter into the text- 
ure of their social system, to dim its glory. He only 
sees what is splendid; all the meanness thrown over it 
by surrounding want, he is accustomed to disregard, as 
much as if it did not exist. If it was not so he would be 
continually miserable. But it stares an American in the 
face in every street. This dark veil hides for a period 
all the grandeur that stands towering up behind it. I 
found it precisely so in my case. 

We succeeded in separating ourselves from nearly all 
the rabble that had at first surrounded us, though one or 
two of the more professional or more hungry beggars 
harassed our march through several of the shorter 
streets. Three things struck me, in particular, as soon 
as I entered Liverpool, viz : the large size and powerful 
appearance of the dray horses ; the vast extent and pris- 
on-like aspect of the ware houses, and the convenience 
and stability of their docks. But while the ware houses 
were so immense, the streets were narrow and choked 
up; the side walks by men, women and children, nearly 
all of whom were clothed in wretched garments, whilst 
the pavement was thickly covered with carts and wagons 
heavily laden with cotton and merchandize. A narrow 
strip of sky gray with smoke shone dimly above, lighting 
up the street, it is true, but not with that transparent 



96 JOURNAL. 

brightness which cheers even the purlieus of our towns. 
The shops in these streets had a contracted and indigent 
air. We decided to go to the " Adelphi," one of the 
best houses in Liverpool. On the way we passed through 
two handsome streets, much like parts of Broadway in 
New York, or Washington Street in Boston. In the 
coffee room I had the pleasure of meeting a gentleman, 
who had been a fellow student with me at Andover. 
There is no place where one is more independent than 
in an English hotel. If he has money enough he can 
command everything. We might have such houses if 
we desired them ; perhaps they would be frequented and 
be profitable, but they are not suited to, at least they do 
not grow out of, our national character. They are the 
legitimate germ of English feeling. In England, condi- 
tion, title and wealth are everything ; character, person, 
humanity comparatively nothing. All yields to the daz- 
zle of wealth and hereditary influence. This aristocracy 
predominates everywhere. Its spirit communicates itself 
to everything. See its genius in a Hotel. You are 
met at the door by the waiter. He measures at a glance 
your condition. He looks out to see whether you have 
come in your own carriage with livery, or post it in style. 
He watches the postilions to estimate the height of your 
dignity by the profoundness of their obeisance, And they 
do not leave the house till they have told him what you 
have paid them, and all other things which they know 
about you. In short he looks at the hack that you have 
come in ; at the silver you pay for it ; at your baggage, 
dress, and deportment, and scores you down according- 
ly ; or, in the pithy language of an Englishman, " he sets 
you down as a porter, port-wine and water, or champaigne 
customer at once, and treats you at that rate, until you 
have fixed your own standard, by what you call for." If 



JOURNAL. 97 

you do not immediately ask for the " travellers'* room," or 
for the " coffee room," he inquires, " Will you see your 
chamber, sir." The bell is pulled ; the chamber-maid 
appears, and you are conducted to an apartment suited 
to their estimate of your rank. If you do not like it, you 
are shown to another of higher price, and you are sure 
to get a very complaisant smile from the chamber-maid 
if you move like one that intends to pay well. They 
do not like too many " thank you's," thinking that when 
courtesy is too current, coin is rare. And if you have 
many needs, coats to be dusted, shoes to be cleaned, and 
trifles to be done, even if you pay no more for it, it pur- 
chases their respect, and satisfies them that you intend 
giving them their fees. Of such a person their opinion 
is, " he "s a gentleman, he will pay for our services." 

The " coffee room" is arranged in the same style. 
After seeing my room I descended to it. It was a large 
and handsome apartment, with about ten or twelve tables, 
capable of accommodating four persons each ; these 
were all covered with elegant white cloths, with knives 
and silver forks and spoons. At some of them parties 
of gentlemen were sitting, each group apparently as 
much alone as if they only, occupied the room. At others 
was seen but a single individual. I sat down at one of 
the tables. " Waiter, I '11 thank you to bring me break- 
fast." " What will you have, sir ? " said he in reply; 
for the price of breakfast, and particularly other meals, is 
regulated by what one calls for. If you say " coffee 
and rolls," you pay forty cents; if you add " eggs, or 
such meat as you have prepared," you are charged six 
cents more ; if you call for other things, you pay accord- 
ing to their relative value. There are no fixed hours ; 
come in when you may, and call for what you choose, if 
it is to be obtained in the market, it is immediately pro- 
9 



98 JOURNAL. 

vided. You are perfectly independent ; you may have 
all, if you are rich enough to pay for all. There you 
sit alone; eat your dinner, pick over your nuts and 
raisins, and read the newspapers ; no one thinks of you, 
speaks to you, or even looks at you. All keep aloof. 
They don't know you. Perhaps you are lower in the scale 
of importance than themselves. Such persons would of 
course feel uncomfortable at Bunker's or the Tremont's 
elegant table, with so many persons brought into juxta- 
position with them, of whom they were ignorant. They 
would esteem it almost the compromise of their dignity 
to speak. It is not strange then that their public room dif- 
fers from ours. It is not a matter of caprice, but it arises 
from the character of the people. It is a germ from the 
spirit of their constitution. Both the English and Amer- 
icans are generous by nature ; but English laws and 
institutions very naturally confine their courtesy to the 
circle of their acquaintance ; whilst ours, on the contrary, 
give us a freedom of manner towards all men, which no 
circumstances ever disturb. 

The accommodations of the Adelphi were excellent ; 
the tables were laid with elegance, and the servants of the 
coffee room, or waiters, as they are uniformly called, very 
attentive and respectful. After breakfast I walked to 
the upper part of the town with my American companion 
to visit the cemetery. The city in this direction had 
more the air of Boston or New York than the streets 
which I had hitherto seen. In general, however, the 
houses, which were arranged like our own, in connected 
streets or retired " courts" were not so elegant as the 
ranges which distinguish our cities. They were not so 
much adorned by beautiful porticoes, piazzas, and blinds 
as our habitations. Their brick was not so smooth ; it 
was rarely painted white, nor was it sustained on granite 



JOURNAL. 09 

bases, which is so common — rather, so universal with 
us ; nor were the handles of the door and bell knobs so 
often plaited with silver as is usual in our cities. Yet if 
in general the houses through the city fell beneath our 
own in brightness and beauty, nevertheless, it was the 
case that here and there, there were houses of uncommon 
splendor, which would have surpassed our most expensive 
buildings. I expected this. Wealth is monopolized by 
the few ; hence we find uncommon grandeur, then un- 
common plainness, then uncommon wo. There is not 
that beautiful gradation of style which characterizes 
everything at home. You would look, therefore, for 
shoeless beggars and brilliant equipages. And you find 
them. Here comes a splendid carriage ! • How it whirls 
along. It has four horses. Two " jockeys " bestride 
them, bobbing up and down as they kick and spur along 
at a furious rate. These are a singular genus, much the 
same all over England. They are accoutred with a round 
riding cap, short blue pea-coat, tight buckskin breeches, 
white top-boots, spurs, and short whip, and with a round 
red face, just suited to their habiliments. The foot- 
man peered up proudly behind. He looks with elevated 
disdain upon all beneath his conspicuous station; for lo ! 
his gold laced hat, his new blue coat profusely decorated 
with the same, his red velvet breeches, his white silk 
stockings, his polished shoes, and his unsullied wash- 
leather gloves, behold the man of place and dignity! It 
stopped at a splendid house which we were passing. One 
"jockey " sprung from his horse. The footman tripped 
down from behind, and pulled the bell, and a kindred 
spirit opened the door, bowing his powdered head most 
complacently. The carriage door was opened, and a very 
beautiful, graceful, and elegantly dressed young lady was 
handed out. She entered, and we passed on, whilst the 



100 JOURNAL. 

two lacqueys exchanged compliments together on the steps. 
We admired her fine color and the elegant simplicity of 
her dress. This seemed to me always the noble charac- 
teristic of English ladies of the first rank. An elegant 
simplicity of taste. Not so much of the French diversity 
of dress. Beauty is never so attractive, as when simply, 
yet elegantly adorned ; it shines like the diamond out of 
the chaste gold which it decorates. 

On the way, we passed one or two handsome churches, 
built in the modern style. In general they were more 
showy in their exterior than our own ; they were also 
larger than our churches, but they were not so thickly 
scattered through the city, nor were their internal deco- 
rations so becoming and elegant. For instance, it is 
very unusual to see a church richly carpeted, to see one 
or more windows hung with rich curtains, and to find 
the beautiful and chaste mahogany pulpits which orna- 
ment our churches. It is true some of the pews, with 
their rich crimson cushions and velvet lining, equal our 
most beautiful ones, but there is a bareness over the 
larger part of them, that makes a sad contrast with the 
handsome pews of a church in any of our large cities or 
towns. The Cemetery, which we had now reached, oc- 
cupied a very favorable situation. It stood in the highest 
part of the city. It is removed in a great degree from 
the business, bustle, dirt, and wretchedness through 
which we had passed. The houses around had a more 
cheering aspect. The air had a freer circulation, and 
the brightness of the sunshine poured light over the 
scene. Even the thunder of the agitated city was 
softened down by the distance into a soothing hum. 
Here stood the receptacle of the dead. It was inclosed 
by a low granite wall, surmounted by an iron railing. 
Its gateways were in the Egyptian style. From the ex- 



JOURNAL. 101 

terior we discerned nothing else than a Grecian temple 
and a beautiful porter's lodge, in excellent keeping with 
the genius of the place. Along the borders, there were 
smooth gravel walks, shaded by trees, and their sides, 
which were tastefully laid out, adorned with flowers of 
sweetest hue. No one touches these. Even the little 
children stooped down and gazed at them, and left them 
uninjured. " Oh ! how pretty," said a sweet little child 
near me, looking up in the face of her brother, who was 
a few years older ; " Ma loved flowers so, too." " Yes," 
said he, " and pa says that these are sacred to ma's 
memory." And may they rest there unharmed, thought 
I, beautiful and touching remembrancers of the delicate 
being that once loved you ! I did not pass away without 
feeling an interest in this unknown grave and unknown 
occupant. Her love for these beautiful plants indicated 
at least the existence of one bond of sympathy between us. 
We stood near the temple. A deep excavation lay 
beneath us. It is cut through the solid rock. It is five 
hundred feet long, and fiftytwo feet in depth. Inclined 
carViage roads twine round the sides, passing three 
successive galleries of catacombs before reaching the 
burial-place beneath, which is laid out in flower beds 
and shrubberies, from whose grateful shade the white 
marble funeral urns and columns rose with a sweet and 
chastened soberness. We descended. " How suitable 
an entrance to the place," said my companion, as we 
passed through a gallery cut in the solid rock, whose 
length had changed the intense light of day into the 
solemn obscurity of parting twilight. It ushered us once 
more into the light ; but how changed ! If there are 
flowers and shrubbery on one side of the carriage way, 
on the other are the silent mansions of the dead, hewn 
out of the massive rock. A flat marble slab in the lower 
9* 



102 JOURNAL. 

part of the cemetery formed the unconspicuous monu- 
ment of the illustrious Huskisson. The whole scene is 
deeply impressive. It is at once grand, simple, solemn, 
and beautiful. It was converted into its present charac- 
ter at an expense of one hundred thousand dollars. It 
was formerly a stone quarry, whose resources being nearly 
exhausted, it was very judiciously converted to its present 
purpose. 

Of the society of Liverpool I can say but little. As 
far as I came in contact with it, I found it refined and 
agreeable. There is perhaps no city in England where 
America is more justly appreciated. Our commerce fills 
its docks, and our merchants move in its society ; they 
are therefore under more favorable circumstances for 
forming correct opinions of our resources and refinement 
than residents of other cities in England. A lady of that 
city once said to me, whilst conversing upon the preju- 
dices, or at least the ignorance of the English of our 
character, " I have had an opportunity of seeing a great 
deal of American society ; and I am ready to confess 
that I have always found the gentlemen intelligent and 
polite, and the ladies peculiarly delicate and attractive 
in their manners. From what I have seen of your best 
society, which I do not perceive to differ from that of 
our highest circles, I think our opinions of your national 
character must be incorrect." 

Respecting the public buildings, I will say but little. 
They did not strike me so favorably as I had expected. 
Perhaps my anticipations had been too high. The most 
imposing is the Town House, with its fine cupola at the 
head of Castle Street. Though of the Corinthian order, 
its elegance is still of the sterner kind. Its base is of 
rustic masonry, which gives it a massive air ; and the 
dark stone of which the whole is built, adds to the sta- 



JOURNAL. 103 

bility, if not to the beauty of the building. A colossal 
figure of Britannia presides over its swelling dome. Its 
interior, though chiefly occupied by the local authorities, 
has a superb ball room for public levees and parties. 
Behind the Town Hall is a large flagged square. It is 
inclosed by an elegant and extensive building, whose 
three fronts overlook this open space. These form 
the Liverpool Exchange. The Exchange buildings con- 
centrate in an admirable manner all the offices and 
facilities, which commercial men have occasion for, in 
the speedy transaction of business. The news room is 
a splendid hall ninetyfour feet by fiftytwo. The middle 
of the room is unoccupied ; elegant tables liberally sup- 
plied with magazines and newspapers, are ranged along 
the sides; many gentlemen were sitting in chairs by 
these, or walking up and down the centre of the apart- 
ment. The ceiling being supported by five fine columns 
gave it a spacious and noble air. The admirable ar- 
rangement and extensive scale of this useful room, 
indeed of the whole building and its appurtenances must 
communicate a fine tone to the commercial enterprise of 
the place. Such buildings answer for standards of a 
nation's enterprise, whilst they tend largely to increase 
it. A city is therefore deeply indebted to the individual 
who projects a noble institution in its midst — for it 
gives an activity and enlargedness of feeling upon all 
kindred enterprises. We are under high obligations 
to our late distinguished Mayor, Josiah Quincy, for the 
spirit which his uncompromising grandeur of design 
has infused into our character. Acting in the genius 
of it, let us dare to erect a commercial building inferior 
to none in the world. Why should it not be so ? 

A monument to the memory of the illustrious Nelson 
occupies the centre of the square. It is of bronze ; its 



104 JOURNAL. 

design violates all the principles of correct taste. After 
a while, out of the mass of savage figures, one detects 
the barbarous meaning of the artist. A fearful repre- 
sentation of death triumphs over the dying victor ; Brit- 
annia stands weeping behind, whilst a British sailor 
comes up to rescue or avenge the prostrate hero. Ban- 
ners are floating desolately over them, and anchors, 
cannon, and naval trophies lie around. This is the idea 
when extricated from the embryo in which it is left by 
its designer. How much nobler would a solitary statue 
have appeared. The total expense of the monument, 
Exchange, and Town Hall, which may be said to make 
one great whole, was $1,016,760. The new Custom 
House is an elegant and extensive building, built of 
granite like that of duincy ; it is not yet completed, 
and like other public as well as private buildings in 
England advances but slowly. The celerity with which 
we accomplish streets and squares would be incredible 
in England. I often hesitated in speaking upon such 
subjects with strangers, almost fearing that my veracity 
would be doubted. 

The old custom house into which I now entered in 
order to obtain my baggage was but a rude affair. It is 
a disagreeable matter to pass through the custom house 
in England. You have to do with menials. And these 
in England are too often a contemptible class. We 
have unfortunately formed our opinion of English men, 
manners, morals, generosity, and refinement from such 
characters, and by the order of travellers met with in the 
stages and public houses through the land. Nothing 
can be more incorrect and unjust. It is true that one 
meets with many uncultivated and rude men on the 
outward face of society ; and he must therefore penetrate 
beyond it in order to discover generosity, as well as deli- 



JOURNAL. 105 

cate feeling, and courteous manners. If he has once an 
introduction to good society, he enters a region entirely 
distinct from that which he had before trodden, distin- 
guished by courtesy, cordiality of manner, and high and 
refined intelligence. Candor demands this early ac- 
knowledgment of a truth which I did not at this time 
distinctly apprehend. I trust that this circumstance will 
not be lost sight of. It arises from the nature of their 
political existence and explains the wide difference 
which exists in the minds of travellers respecting the 
spirit of English society. 

I could not possibly have entered a place where the 
standard of character is lower than the room of bonds 
and baggage in which I now stood. Two or three 
coarse looking fellows, like spiders in a dusty web, 
hovered round to seize upon the strangers, who have 
come as visitors to their island. One would suppose 
that the office they hold would render them honest ; or 
one would imagine, that the honor of their country 
would make them civil and upright. Not so. A man 
with a wooden leg hobbled up to me — as he took the 
keys of my trunk and travelling bag — he hemmed and 
shuffled and gave a knowing wink, still keeping his hand 
wide open. " I believe it is all right, sir," I said. He 
turned the key, opened the trunk, and began to look 
over the things. It was quite a farce. He scarce 
touched anything, but ever and anon gave me a gentle 
touch with his wooden member by way of suggestion. 
Seeing that I did not take the hint, he begins to pry into 
the trunk — there were several books in it. He seizes 
upon these — " Books, hem ! not allowed, something to 
pay on these" — another touch with the leg : " large num- 
ber, could n't think of passing these. " The hint began to 
take effect, his elbow was at work against my side and 



106 JOURNAL. 

one hand came down to receive " a husher ;" it was not 
worth disputing about, so I put some silver into his hand. 
It rang over every nerve, brightened up his eyes and 
wits to such an extent that he saw at once that the books 
were " too few to be worth naming," &,c. However, before 
I left the room I had two or three tips on the nose from 
the under-craft, with " Hey ! all right, sir ; all right, sir." 
One bolder than the rest pursued us into the street, and 
demanded a shilling of us as a matter of right ; " for I 
ought to have been employed as your porter ; I do the 
waiting there, your honors, and when the gentlemen 
doesn't hire me they pay me as though they did, your 
honors." " If it is your right,' • said my friend, " you 
had better pursue your right ; otherwise, you had better 
be off." And he went growling away. 

I visited the markets while in Liverpool. Their exte- 
rior is unadorned. Their interior displays great profu- 
sion. There was the same admirable arrangement which 
is to be found in the Boston market ; the same variety of 
comforts and luxuries, of meats and vegetables which there 
greets our eyes. There was more game in the market, 
such as pheasants, hares, &c, than would be commonly 
found in our own, but not such a variety of water-fowl 
and fruit. The profusion of the Liverpool market comes 
all at once on the eye, (for it is square, and is lighted 
from the roof,) instead of the succession of necessaries 
and luxuries which meets the eye, in passing through 
the Boston market. A stranger will often be urged to 
buy, in walking through an English market, at least, by 
the fruit and oyster women. 

After a few days I decided to visit Manchester, on my 
route to Scotland. But before leaving Liverpool, I must 
be indulged with a few general remarks. An American 
who goes to Liverpool expecting to discover beauty, bril- 



JOURNAL. 107 

liancy, and life impressed on everything, will be disap- 
pointed. The importance of that city is not to be 
estimated in any such way. It undoubtedly possesses a 
vast amount of wealth. But this must be seen in its 
costly docks and extensive warehouses, in the canals, 
that glide with streams of silver into its deep treasure- 
houses; and in its path-way of iron, which seems beaten 
into greater stability by the unchecked course of its cars, 
freighted with the wealth of precious merchandize. Of 
its politeness and affability he must not take the first 
outward appearance as the measure. For behind the 
dark and unprepossessing features which strike him at 
first, he will find there, if he comes in contact with it, 
all the sweet courtesies which give a charm to life. 
Even the very persons whose constraint, under certain 
circumstances, was disagreeable to his feelings, under 
different circumstances, he may perhaps admire and love. 
I offer these remarks as the fruit rather of a second and 
third visit to Liverpool than as the offspring of my ear- 
liest impressions. 



CHAPTER III. 

Omnibus — Liverpool Rail-way — Porters — Manchester — Mercantile 
Agents — Reform — Manufactories — Cathedral — Chapel — Waiters 
— English Villages — Bolton — Factories — Lancaster. 

I was now for the first time on the top of a coach, or 
rather an " omnibus," about to start for the rail-way, 
which lies a short distance out of the city. After a great 
bustle the baggage was all arranged, and the dozen por- 
ters that had been placing it on the coach, had moved 
back upon the side-walk. A coach never leaves without 
at least half a dozen or more of these fellows round, with 
their low crowned hats or caps shading their immovable 
features, with a brass plate upon their collar, and a coil 
of rope under their arm, waiting like trouts under the 
roots of some tree in the shady stream, for any bait that 
may float upon the water. It is really as amusing as it 
is provoking, to see the avidity with which they will seize 
the baggage from the hands of the porter who has brought 
it to the office for you, and hoisting it up to a place of 
security, fix upon yourself with " Remember the porter, 
your honor." There is no resisting. The coachman, 
who would scarce wait a moment for anything else, is 
sure to liave something to delay him until all such claims 
are settled to the satisfaction of this gentry ; he then 
cracks up his whip, whilst half a dozen cry, " all ready/' 



JOURNAL. 109 

and draws up his reins and wheels off at his best speed 
from his nodding companions. 

A ride of about two miles brought us to the entrance 
of the rail-way. Trains of carriages filled the court into 
which we were ushered. All was bustle. Porters were 
transferring the baggage from the " omnibuses" to the 
cars, whilst gentlemen and ladies were following through 
the crowd, with a vigilant espionage over their floating pro- 
perty. Our tickets informed us that all porterage would 
be performed by the servants of the company, free of ex- 
pense. On getting down from the coach, I was sur- 
rounded by a group of porters, reiterating " Move your 
baggage, sir ? " " Change your baggage, your honor 1 " 
"Do you belong to the rail-road company '?" said I. 
" Yes, your honor," answered one. " And do you move the 
baggage of this train ? " I said, showing the ticket. " Yes, 
your honor," was the unhesitating reply. " Very well, 
arrange these in as secure a manner as possible." He 
placed the baggage on the top of one of the coaches, and 
immediately returned to me. " Remember the porter, if 
you please, sir." I held up the card and read it to him, 
and turned very calmly away. He followed at once. 
" But I'm not a regular porter for the rail-road." " You 
said you worked for the rail-road company." "Ah! I 
meant, your honor, that I worked for the company that 
comes to the rail-road, not for the rail-road company." 
" Young man," said I, " your intention was to deceive 
me; I shall not encourage dishonesty." I soon discov 
ered that he had placed it on the wrong car. Another 
porter came up and offered to remove it. I put still more 
guarded inquiries than to the other, to which he appeared 
to answer with fairness. He immediately transferred my 
trunk and valise to its proper place, and came to me for 
a fee. I refused. He made the same pretences as the 
10 



1 10 JOURNAL. 

other, but his demand was silenced by the motion of the 
carriage which left him far behind, to satisfy himself as 
he best could. 

The rail-road commences just at the mouth of a dark 
gallery, into which we rapidly darted. We passed on for 
some time through the dark with fearful velocity, when 
the daylight began once more to glimmer on us, and we 
soon were flying along, the green fields on either side of 
us. It was nearly evening when we started, so that the 
shades of night soon darkened the scene. The motion 
was both new and agreeable to me. We scarce seemed 
to t6uch the earth, whilst the passing objects appeared to 
whirl by with dizzy swiftness. Occasionally carriages 
coming from the other direction, shot by us with their 
sparkling furnaces, leaving a train of smoke and fire be- 
hind them. We had scarce time to take note of their 
presence before they had passed with the whir and 
speed of a sky rocket; a mist of wagons and faces, visible 
for a moment, then gone. They govern these highly ac- 
celerated machines with surprising facility. Their 
speed is not abated until very near the stopping place, 
vet they bring up just before the door, as exactly as if 
with a coach and horses. We completed the thirty 
miles in about ninety minutes, including twelve or fifteen 
stoppages. 

I rode in an " omnibus " from the rail-road to the 
Palace Inn. I selected it because connected with the 
history of England. The last of the unfortunate line of 
Stuarts, made this house his head quarters when with his 
army in Manchester, then an inconsiderable place. I 
requested to be shown to his room. It is said to remain 
precisely in the same state as when he occupied it. Pos- 
sibly it may be true. But it certainly had not a very regal 
air. The carpet \ras much worn ; the window curtains 



JOURNAL; 111 

rusty ; a few decanters and tumblers were on the side- 
board ; indeed, it seemed left there to mourn over the 
faded honors of the house of the Stuarts. The house 
was of but a middling character. It was a ci Commer- 
cial Inn." Its inmates are therefore a class of men too 
often mercenary and coarse, yet not without considerable 
sagacity on some subjects. They are not so often mer- 
chants, as agents for merchants, whose whole duty is to 
traverse the country up and down, doing business and 
receiving money for the houses to which they belong. A 
traveller comes very often in contact with this class ; 
therefore, as one is just entering the coffee room, I will 
describe him, for he is one of many. " Waiter, bring 
along that bag; is Mr B. here, Mr L., Mr S., Mr P. ? " 
And now a large man with a hard red face, heavy riding 
coat, and thick boots, came in, with a leather writing case 
under one arm, and an umbrella in the other hand. He 
throws his hat, umbrella, and writing case on the table, 
pulls off his great coat, moves up to the fire, (the eve- 
ning was cool,) rubs his hands, turns round once or 
twice, seizes one of the tables nearest the fire, calls for 
" boots," and a newspaper, and something to eat ; and 
there he sits, (as if there were not a dozen persons in the 
room with him,) writing away as busy as a merchant's 
clerk. After finishing his writing, taking his coffee or 
tea, &c. he soon called for some hot port wine and water. 
He then began to cast round his eye with some tokens of 
recovering animation, to see who was near him. Know- 
ing himself to be here amongst his own tribe, he is not 
so shy as if in other quarters, about commencing a con- 
versation. 

" Reform " was the topic of fearful interest. Parliament 
was resisting the progress of innovation upon established 
institutions and practices. The passions of the people 



112 JOURNAL. 

were excited, and everything looked dark and lowering. 
This feeling clouded the conversation which was begun 
upon the measures of Parliament. It was revolutionary 
in its character. Indeed I thought that I detected some- 
thing like hesitation and fear in the countenances of some 
of the speakers, as they uttered sentiments which but a few 
weeks before they would have trembled to promulgate in 
the company of their best friends. I was almost aston- 
ished at the acrimony with which they spoke of lords and 
hereditary titles. " The bill must pass," said one; "it 
shall pass, and if these Lords resist it they ought to 
fall." " And they will, for the people in Birmingham 
and London wont flinch any longer. I know a man that 
has on hand twenty five thousand bayonets, that he '11 give 
to whoever asks for one, if things don't go on right." 
" But," said another, sarcastically, " will he take them 
back again, as soon as the nobility are coerced ? and 
will they return quietly to their work and homes, or will 
they prefer ours ? I have not thought so coolly of reform 
for a long time, as when I was at Birmingham and saw 
that dense mob, rankling under the pressure of their 
grievances, and borne along by the passions of a few 
desperate men." " I don't know ; there may be a fearful 
struggle, but I've made up my mind to it, if it must 
come. We are pressed to death by taxes to support idle 
lords and wicked bishops, and therefore if it comes, let 
it come ; it can't be worse than it is." The conversation 
continued much in this strain, the one becoming bitterly 
violent, the other urging the danger of hasty changes. 

I do not feel disposed to say much of Manchester. It 
was to me still less pleasing than Liverpool. The num- 
ber of its factories, however, is astonishing. I will not 
attempt a description of any of them ; but I must say in 
general that their machinery did not appear so new as 



JOURNAL. • 113 

that of the manufactories at Lowell, whilst the appear- 
ance of the workmen was altogether such as I had been 
led to anticipate by the dark descriptions which have 
been drawn of them. How different from the well dress- 
ed, healthy factory girls of our manufacturing towns. I 
could not but anxiously inquire into the cause. If it 
originates in the nature of the factories themselves, 
better had our wheels cease, and the busy shuttle move 
no more ; better those bright towns, which like Aladdin's 
palace have sprung up as it were by magic in a single 
night, with factories, and stores, and dwelling-houses, 
and churches, filled with an active, moral, and happy 
population, should be merged in the wilderness again, 
and our maidens go back to their rural habitations, and 
our young men go forth with the morning to scatter the 
grain, and follow the plough through the yielding furrow. 
But I do not believe, though I certainly did at first, that 
this poverty, and paleness, and debility, arises from the 
very nature of factories. On the contrary I conceive it 
can be distinctly traced in the English system, to other 
causes. I will briefly enumerate them. 1st. It is actu- 
ally known that even very young children are employed 
in labor from ten to fourteen hours a day. 2d. But a 
small proportion of them attend to the sacred duties of the 
Sabbath. 3d. Temperance Societies are scarce known 
and hardly at all encouraged by the owners of these 
factories. 4th. Comparatively few of them are instructed 
even in the earliest rudiments of education. 5th. The 
influence of the poor laws ; and lastly, nearly the whole 
weight of taxation in England falls upon the poor. I will 
not touch the matter further at this time, as I shall throw 
out hints upon these subjects in connexion with conversa- 
tions which I enjoyed with distinguished men in England 
upon those topics. 

10* 



114 JOURNAL. 

I visited two spots in Manchester with no little interest. 
The one was its venerable cathedral. The two cities 
which I have spoken of are comparatively new, and 
having grown up like those on our side of the ocean, 
from modern commerce and enterprise, were not full of 
those old institutions and ruins, of which our earliest 
fathers loved to speak ; monuments with which the his- 
tory and character of those noble spirits were connected. 
I turned from the noise of the crowded street, and soon 
stood before the ancient cathedral. It was a striking 
picture of the era in which it was erected. It was grand, 
but it was a misty grandeur. A thousand fretted pin- 
nacles rose from its roof, whilst over its pointed arch 
doorway and windows, and along the cornice, grim 
figures of priests and griffins, with many a singular de- 
vice, gave it an expression better suited to the spirit of 
its own age than of ours. 

As T walked over the time-worn pavements, I saw by 
the nearly effaced memorials of death engraved on each 
slab, that I was upon ground consecrated to sepulture and 
silence. The sober strains of sacred music floated with 
lengthened cadence from the cathedral, and as its notes 
melted on the air, seemed to be the breathings of the 
spirit that watched over the place of tombs. I passed 
under one of the low portals of the ancient pile, and 
entered the vestry. A low partition of carved oak, sur- 
mounted by an antique iron railing, separated it from the 
choir. The gray stone beneath my feet, with its wasted 
and melancholy emblems, borrowed a more pleasing 
character from the soft and blending colors which the 
stained windows imparted to the light ; whilst the busts, 
statues, coats of arms, and funeral devices upon the wall 
lay in a dim and sober shade. The interior, though 
divided into several parts, has nevertheless a general air 



JOURNAL. 115 

of unity, so that the remotest parts of the church are 
seen ; and I thought that the dimly lighted altar and 
walls in a distant part of the building received a finer 
shading from the leaves and flowers of the iron railing 
through which they were viewed. The organ was hush- 
ed, or its sounds melted forth only from its lowest keys, 
as I entered the choir, where the priest and chanting 
boys in their white robes were performing the solemn 
and elevating service of the morning. The house was 
almost empty, but the sounds reverberated with higher 
effect through the lofty chancel and distant galleries. 
There was a chilling indifference in the manner of the 
priest which contrasted strikingly with the general solem- 
nity of the scene. He finished, and hurried off with a 
rapid step, whilst one or two aged persons remained, 
wrapped in contemplation and prayer. This has its 
origin in the nature of their church system. For the 
influence of a church establishment is perhaps as perni- 
cious in deteriorating the character of the clergy, as it 
is dangerous in checking the natural enlargement of 
the church. But before leaving England I consider this 
subject worthy of a careful, and somewhat statistical 
treatment, and shall therefore only observe at present 
that the increasing spiritual necessities of a nation can 
never be adequately supplied from the cold hand of a 
careless and otherwise occupied government. 

This then, thought I, as I walked up and down the 
aisle, is a relic from the days of Henry IV. This is the 
type of Christianism as it existed then. Vast in its 
cathedrals, splendid in its shrines, grand in its ceremo- 
nies, severe in its penances, and awful in its heavenly 
authority ; it excited the imagination and at the same 
time rendered the morals lax, and the manners austere. 



116 JOURNAL. 

Here then is one of the effects of a principle which once 
made so constituent a part of this nation's character. 

Whilst these feelings occupied my mind I left the 
cathedral and hurrying through the busy streets, direct- 
ed my steps to a distant part of the city. After passing 
by many an immense warehouse and factory, over many 
a canal bridge and through many a motley group 
sprinkled with the occasional uniform of a dragoon or 
grenadier, I arrived at an eminence which commanded 
a view of a part of the city. I looked forth upon the 
hundred furnace and factory pipes that poured their 
smoke and fire into the misty canopy of clouds above the 
city. I saw the massive buildings on every side. I 
heard the deep murmur of the town, the active working 
of ten thousand looms, and the unceasing sound of the 
mighty engines which shake the air. I had just come 
from one of the monuments of a very different age, but 
though no massive tower rose here to indicate the spirit 
of the epoch, I felt under the spell of history, and the 
deep tide of time rolled back in my mind to the days 
when the brazen legions of Caesar fortified their camp 
there. What a spot to stand upon and remember the un- 
conquered eagle, the eternal city ! " O Lucifer, son of the 
morning ! how art thou cut down to the ground, which 
didst weaken the nations!" It is on such ground that 
one powerfully apprehends the power of a principle over 
the interest of nations. 

Sabbath Morning. Took a solitary breakfast. Made 
some inquiries about the most distinguished clergy. 
Decided to attend divine service at Dr Jack's chapel. 
Shops were closed as in our cities, and the town pre- 
sented a striking contrast to the bustle of the week. 
The people appeared better clothed also, but still there 
was nothing of the general air of comfort and affluence 



JOURNAL. 117 

which brightens our streets upon a Sabbath morning. 
The bells were pealing in the air from many a spire as 
I reached the chapel. I readily secured a seat through 
the courtesy of a gentleman who perceived that I was a 
a stranger. The house was plain even to bareness ; 
although the appearance of the audience was highly 
respectable. The ladies were less showily dressed than 
with us, but I thought their simple elegance rendered 
them more pleasing than when adorned with a floating 
array of ribbons and laces. The Doctor was absent and 
a young gentleman from Edinburgh conducted the ser- 
vices. His sermons were simple and evangelical. His 
manner was easy and his gestures appropriate. He 
used no notes and appeared to deliver his sentiments 
from memory. Several handsome equipages were at the 
door with liveried servants, when we came out. 

The next morning I rose at five o'clock to take the 
stage for Edinburgh. Before leaving, I was met in the 
entry by the various expectants of fees, ready if I had 
forgotten them, to put in their claims, as, " Remember 
the waiter if you please, sir," " Chamber-maid, if you 
please, sir." It is usual to pay the waiter eleven cents 
for his services at each meal, whilst the chamber-maid 
receives twice that sum as her remuneration. Where a 
house is much frequented, the servants not only do not 
expect wages, but even pay a handsome salary for their 
situation. As they are entirely dependent on the gene- 
rosity of the guests, they are exceedingly attentive and 
civil in the performance of their duties. However, it 
is annoying to a stranger, perhaps I may say to any 
traveller, to have these little items to attend to amidst the 
bustle of departure. 

The coachman and guard were equipped with laced 
hats, red frock coats with gold lacing, breeches and 



118 JOURNAL. 

white top boots. I may add that they were fine portly 
looking fellows. " All right/' and one blew his horn 
and the other cracked his whip, with notable emphasis ; 
and off we drove at the rate of ten miles an hour. 

The environs of the town were handsome. Elegant 
houses were strewn along the road, with grounds laid 
out with great taste; the honeysuckle twining round the 
columns of the portico, and the roses trained to the wall, 
gave a sweet perfume to the air, whilst they communicated 
a touching and living beauty to the house. In the grounds, 
great attention is paid to the gravel walks, which are bor- 
dered with flowers and evergreens. The green hawthorn 
hedge has a very neat and picturesque air. These, 
almost universally supply the place of our wooden fences; 
here and there however, the family residences are sur- 
rounded by high stone walls. We passed through nu- 
merous towns and villages. The villages are of two 
characters, very distinct from each other. % Those of one 
class are by no means interesting. The houses are built 
of stone or mortar, and compacted closely together, form- 
ing a few long streets at right angles with each other. 
The houses have a bare appearance, and are covered with 
stone tiles. The streets are paved ; and the boys go 
pattering up and down them with their high wooden 
soles, making a singular sound. These streets are occu- 
pied by colliers, or by the lower class of peasantry, who 
work in the fields, scattered along for some miles in every 
direction. They form a very humble and hard working 
class, unlike any body of farmers or peasants in our 
country. 

The other description of villages is very pleasing. A 
few humble dwellings may indeed be found there; but 
these even, will indicate more taste in their occupants ; 
as a vine, or honeysuckle, or rose bush, steals up to 



JOURNAL, 119 

breathe a fragrance, and shed a beauty over the quiet 
cottage. Nothing diffuses such an air of happiness and 
contentment over a humble homestead, as the rose bush, 
jessamine, or honeysuckle. The other houses are gene- 
rally constructed of a light freestone ; stand secluded 
amongst trees, and displaying considerable architectural 
taste, add great beauty to the scene. Often a village 
will be mainly composed of such buildings. In such 
cases, they seem presented to the eye, to afford a finer 
relief to the richly cultivated grounds amongst which 
they stand. The striking feature of such a lovely spot is 
its truly poetic finish. Everything is as complete as if 
it was all done by the power of magic at once. Nothing 
is out of its place. There are no withered leaves on the 
gravel walks ; no broken branches, or sticks, or straw in 
the road ; no piles of wood, or boards, or coal, before the 
houses: but everything of that kind is kept out of sight; 
whilst the grass plat is cropped smooth, the vines beauti- 
fully trained, the flowers arranged with pleasing taste, 
and the trees carefully preserved ; so that the ancient 
church with its clustering ivy, and the bright and cheer- 
ful habitations interspersed amongst these delicious 
shades, seem like some gray-haired sire, surrounded by 
his happy posterity, joyfully alive to the beauty of the 
scene. English poetry partakes of the genius of these 
places. It formed its character here. We see at once 
why it does not breathe the misty grandeur of the Ger- 
man, and we sympathize at once more deeply with Cow- 
per, and Goldsmith, and Kirk White, 

The striking difference between an English and 
American village is, that the one is finished, whilst the 
other is in a state of progression. And let our villages 
arrive at any degree of beauty possible, even far exceed- 
ing that of transatlantic ones, of loveliest expression, yet 



120 JOURNAL. 

this will still be the distinction for ages to come. For 
their's is the stage of stability, our's the era of mobility ; 
and therefore our country will move, brightening along a 
pathway of increasing splendor, as long as peace and the 
vigor of a healthful morality permit us to draw forth from 
the inexhaustible resources of our father-land. 

We dashed on all day at an exhilarating rate, over a 
McAdamized road, through a variety of such villages as I 
have described, occasionally taking in towns of a differ- 
ent character. We breakfasted atone of these. Bolton 
is a town of about fifty thousand inhabitants. It is one 
of the germs of manufacturing enterprise. It has neither 
the extent or beauty of one of our towns of a similar 
character and population. Its houses were badly grouped. 
The bricks were rough and much soiled by coal smoke, 
and the windows being destitute of blinds, had a bare 
appearance. An English town of this description, with 
its mighty factories, and machinery of wealth, crowded 
by artisans of no attractive mood, resembles some rich 
mine, except that it is above ground. Because those 
who toil amongst its golden elements, working up its 
massive veins of ore, but view its treasures as they float 
away to distant proprietors ; whilst they only eke out, 
through much hardship, a scanty pittance for themselves 
and families. This gives, as I have said before, a forbid- 
ding aspect to English factory towns, but it is not the 
fault of the system. The poor laws of England generate 
a poor population, and still more impoverished by the 
grasp of an ill appointed revenue. It becomes vitiated 
for the want of religious institutions commensurate with 
the necessities of its dense community. Out of the great 
mass of fermentation which is thus made, the elements of 
action for factories are gathered. It is not the factories 
which have created this poverty. They have done their 



JOURNAL. 121 

share to relieve it. And if the base upon which they 
rest is sound, that is, the laws of the country are whole- 
some, the distribution of property just, and the morals 
pure, they will be an ornament and rich resource to the 
country. They are so with us. 

I did not notice that we had exchanged our guard 
and coachman at Bolton, until as I was getting upon the 
stage I received an expressive bow from these worthies 
with the usual " Remember the coachman, if you please, " 
" The guard if you please, sir." They expect as their 
fee sixpence (eleven cents) every twenty miles. In enter- 
ing Lancaster another era in the history of civilization 
is presented to the eye. It was the most interesting old 
town I had met with. In other places I had caught the 
glimpses of olden time in the detached fragments which 
had borne the shock of the centuries which had swept 
away the lesser parts. But here the whole style and 
grouping were more characteristic of ancient days. 
Doubtless there had been efforts towards change, but the 
spirit of the past had left its influence upon the whole. 
Even when the houses were new this was evidently per- 
ceptible. They were low and antiquated, whilst the 
dark stain as well as shape of ancient days was on the 
front of many an old gable. But what threw a charac- 
ter upon all the rest, was the dark majesty of the old 
castle, which rose up sternly on a broken hill-side in 
the midst of the town, its black and giant battlements, 
the relics of dimly distant periods, harmonizing with 
the massive frame, and misty lines of the huge Gothic 
church which stands at its side. It would be impos- 
sible to present a finer sketch of the predominance 
of princely and ecclesiastical power, than is here seen in 
the overtopping castle and chamber, with the crowd of 
ignoble houses grouped beneath. 
11 



122 



JOURNAL. 



The castle of " the red rose," with the surrounding 
domains, is still a royal patrimony. From this circum- 
stance, though an inconsiderable town, the county 
sessions are held here, and a member is returned to Par- 
liament. A gentleman upon the coach, from whom I 
had derived considerable information, in speaking upon 
the subject, remarked, " the partialities of the King are 
strong for Lancaster. He will not hear of changes here ; 
with all the claims of Manchester and Liverpool to be 
the borough town, and with all the advantages that 
would result from it, he persists in conferring the honor 
and privilege of it, upon this old hereditary estate, as 
though the security of the crown had some mystic con- 
nexion with the prerogatives of that old feudal castle." 

Lancaster certainly made a deep impression on my 
mind. It was heightened by circumstances. As I 
entered the town, whilst recollections came across my 
mind with dark and imposing imagery, whilst the splen- 
dor and towering fortunes of the illustrious house, with 
all the fierce array of battles, clanging armor, glancing 
spears, and tossing plumes, 1 heard afar off the blast of 
the bugle, the deep roll] of drums, and the tumultuotis 
out-pouring of martial melody. As its strains rose with 
wild swell from the lofty and dark battlements of the 
castle, the sounds of distant cavalry clattered upon the 
pavement. Presently they came nearer, galloping fierce- 
ly down the street. They rode in detached parties; 
their brazen and steel equipments glancing brightly down 
the perspective of many a street. As a portion of the 
regiment moved swiftly by us, I involuntarily drew up in 
a posture of defence, for their fierce aspect and deadly 
arms served to give a semblance of reality to my contem- 
plations. It was the regiment of dragoons stationed in 
Lancaster riding in order to exercise their horses. 



JOURNAL. 123 

1 have said that the roads were most excellent : that 
the towns and villages displayed a variety of character, 
and that they represented different periods of history and 
feeling. Tn order to discern more clearly the distin- 
guishing features of the country, let us look at the land- 
scape in a more idealized and general point of view. 
And I take the opportunity to remark that the descrip- 
tion is the result not of a single, but also of a second and 
more scrutinizing tour. 

Were I endowed with magical power I would take 
you in lofty flight through the blue air to that white 
cloud that seems to watch like a guardian spirit over the 
rugged walls of Lancaster castle. I would bid the dim 
horizon roll up its shadowy veil and the spirit of sun 
shine to brighten the distant expanse. Beneath us, 
behold the thickly grouped houses, the grim castle, and 
the stately cathedral, as if it were an embodied intelli- 
gence, presiding over the golden sands and silver waters 
by which it stands. At a great distance the Irish Sea 
rolls its majestic waves along the indented shore. To 
the south and east the landscape spreads out in soft and 
Unvarying undulations; at the north, the view terminates 
with the rising hills of Westmoreland. 

Over the whole there is a pleasing cultivation. It is 
true that beautiful groves of fruit trees are not scattered 
in every direction, and wide forests with opening per- 
spectives, with all that variety of hills, and lakes, and 
river scenery which diversifies our lovely New England, 
but there is a finished and tranquil beauty there ; there 
are the busy cities, with silver canal lines, and many an 
ancient town with its dark spire rising up from amongst 
the trees ; and many a noble mansion or castle sur- 
rounded by parks and venerable shades. These are the 
points of interest and distinction. 



CHAPTER IV / 

Carlisle — Clergy — Gretna Green — The Scottish Border — Entrance 
into Edinburgh — Memoirs of Mrs Huntington — Prince Street — 
Carlton Hill — Lodgings. 

The road from Lancaster to Carlisle passed by several 
old towns, among which Kendal and Kenrith were the 
most interesting. From these two places many travellers 
turn off to the lakes of Westmoreland and Cumberland. 
I delayed my visit until a late period. Carlisle, though 
an ancient town, mingles the venerable and stern with 
the modern, in no unpleasing manner. The houses have 
not the contracted air too common in such towns. The 
cathedral and old castles give it a proud and commanding 
air on the one side, and the new court house, a fine stone 
building with large circular towers, makes a noble point 
of view from the other. An interesting old castle stands 
" in melancholy gray, with ivy decked," just outside of 
the town, connected with many a romantic tale. 

As I walked in the evening through the dimly lighted 
streets, to the market place, to the castle, and to the porch 
of the old cathedral,! could not but say to myself, "this, 
then, is Carlisle — this one of the centre spots in English 
history — this one of the towns which Scott has filled with 
undying characters — there then perished the sons of the 
Mist ; there the unfortunate and beautiful woman, whose 



JOURNAL. 125 

wrongs have purchased for her the sympathies of the world, 
poured forth her sorrows in deepest loneliness — there, 
where she could gaze only on the clouds and sky that hung 
over her departed crown and native kingdom. This is the 
spot which has seen the march of so many armies, and 
has stood the brunt of fierce sieges. And could a student 
of any of our colleges stand in the sober shade of its 
ancient cathedral, and remember that here was the scene 
of Paley's writings, and feel only an ordinary emotion 1 
I will not hide it, that I have scarce ever been affected 
by anything so deeply as by breathing the air where lived 
the good and great, and those who have done so, will not 
smile at the indulgence of strong emotion by the grave 
of Paley. The celebrated Bishop Law has a tablet to his 
memory, in the same place. 

Carlisle stands near the Solway Firth. Its impor- 
tance as a commercial town has been recently very much 
augmented by the formation of a canal suited to vessels 
of considerable tonnage. Some capital is invested in 
cottons ; but it is more noted for its hats, fish-hooks, and 
soap, than for anything else. It has a population of 
about 16,000. A large part of this number are mechan- 
ics. But the higher classes are well informed and easy 
in their manners. When in C. on a second visit I had 
letters to a gentleman of the place of the highest respect- 
ability. He met me with the frankness of a man of 
the world, and showed me every possible attention dur- 
ing the short period which I remained there. His house 
was furnished very much as those of American gentle- 
men of the same standing are, with elegant simplicity. 
Rich silver plate stood upon his sideboard, a costly and 
family ornament which the English are very partial to, 
and fond of displaying. It is a kind of pledge of their 
good birth, " when antique silver rests upon the board." 
11* 



126 JOURNAL. 

He showed me a large and beautiful silver snuff-box, 
which had been presented to him by the members of the 
reading room, for his efforts in promoting its interests. 
It certainly was one of the most splendid that I ever saw, 
and spoke well of the taste and generosity of his com- 
patriots. The reading room and club house to which 
he introduced me, was a fine building, of the modern 
Gothic architecture, well supplied with papers and literary 
productions, and having private billiard apartments con- 
nected with it. 

Whilst in Carlisle I went to church with him, in ex- 
pectation of hearing the celebrated " John Fawcett ; ' 
preach. Though disappointed in that respect, I was 
nevertheless gratified by hearing a young gentleman, his 
assistant, deliver a most able and feeling discourse. He 
was educated at the University of Dublin. His sentiments 
were touched with the fire of evangelical truth. Nor is 
there a doubt in my mind of the fact, that the most talented 
portion of the trained intellect of the English church, is 
evangelical in practice and feeling. I do not deny that 
there abounds much laxness of preaching and character, 
amongst those who should minister in its holy things, 
but this I affirm, that it is its cultivated and most talented 
men who exercise an evangelical influence. Vital piety 
has, within late years, rested on a deeper and broader 
foundation than formerly. Perhaps God has thus pre- 
pared the way for the change which soon, in the course 
of events, must take place. It is an interesting circum- 
stance that the active part of the clergy in England are 
so frequently men of deep piety. Because, when the 
foundations upon which religion has so long rested are 
violently removed, those who are best prepared to sustain 
the conflict of opinion which will ensue, most competent 
to gather up the scattered elements of the shock and 



JOURNAL. 127 

arrange them in fit relations, are the very men whose 
genius and piety would infuse the life, and beauty, and 
moral energy of a redeeming Christianism into the re- 
animated form. The church system may fall, but these 
men of God will still continue to ornament the Zion of 
our God, and a rich field will be opened for their elo- 
quence and burning love. 

I took occasion to say to Mr , " You are much 

favored here, sir, in having such a man as Mr Fawcett, 
and the talented young gentleman whom we have heard, 
to preside in your midst, in religious concerns." " We 
are indeed so," he replied; "but this young gentleman 
is peculiarly our own." " Permit me to inquire your 
meaning." " Why, Mr Fawcett's duties are so numer- 
ous, that it was esteemed necessary he should have an 
assistant, and as his own salary was very small, the con- 
gregation have made up a sum for this gentleman, by 
voluntary contribution." "But," said I, " is it possible 
that you live under the shadow of this fine old church, 
where are the hoarded treasures of ages " — for I pre- 
sumed that here there were fountains running over with 
wealth — " and yet find yourselves called upon to main- 
tain your clergy in so extraordinary a manner?" "It is 
too true, and though I am of opinion that reform is carried 
on with too hot a hand, I nevertheless think that it may 
find its way with safety into our church. There is 
enough for it to do in this place alone. The funds of 
this church are immense, but they are entirely misapplied. 
Those who have no claim here, and no duties here, 
receive all, whilst those who actually perform the service 
ate scarce supported. For instance, the Bishop receives 
his nine thousand pounds a year, whilst four guineas will 
pay for the discharge of the weightiest part of his duties 
by another. He comes down once a year, gives a splendid 



128 JOURNAL. 

dinner, dashes round for a few weeks among the gentry, 
and then returns to the gayeties and dissipations of 
London, for the remainder of the year. There are large 
immunities to others, of as little advantage to the church, 
whilst Mr Fawcett only receives <£200, which would not 
suffice him, had he not property of his own besides." 

We conversed together upon Edinburgh and the con- 
tinent, both of which we had visited, and of which he 
spoke discriminately. Of America he said but little, and 
his questions and remarks indicated at the same time 
excellent feeling towards the country, with extreme igno- 
rance of its character and institutions. I may almost 
write this down as a general remark of the liberal and 
sensible men in Britain. They regard America with 
interest, but as a land " that lieth afar off." This will 
appear more fully, as we proceed. 

It is a day's ride from Carlisle to Edinburgh. Gretna 
Green is a few miles distant from Carlisle. It stands off 
the Edinburgh road, from which it is seen rising above 
the trees at a distance. On another occasion I passed 
through it. It may have a more enchanting air to a pair 
with ill packed trunks and panting steeds late from the 
south, than it had to me ; but surely, thought I, it is a 
province suited to the blacksmith's rule. " That 's the 
house, sir, where the blacksmith ties the knot for gentle- 
folks," said the coachman, pointing out to me a large, 
bare-looking white house, " and it's not long ago I saw 
a chase down that road as if they 'd run the wheels off. 
A post-chaise came smoking along, as if they had got 
the evil one inside, with a coach and four racing to death, 
half a mile behind ; mercy on me ! how Mister and Miss 
or Missis, or whatever you call her, jumped out and 
run into the house, and smash went the bolts, and they 
were all nicely married to welcome the angry old cack- 



JOURNAL. 129 

ling gentlefolks up to the door, after quietly doing the 
business, whilst the old ones ruffled and stormed out- 
side/' 

One cannot proceed far without perceiving that he is 
in a different country. The villages possess a more uni- 
form character. If on the one side they are far less 
pleasing than the finest English ones, they are neater 
and more comfortable than those of the lowest character 
in the sister kingdom. The peasantry are cast in a 
rougher mould — their faces are thinner, cheek bones 
higher, and the expression of countenance far more re- 
flective. On the other hand it must be allowed that the 
females are far less pleasing in person, than the fairer 
and ruddier daughters of the south. After having passed 
the border, the country becomes more broken than in 
England, more barren and less wooded. Here and there 
deep ravines are met with, the sides rough with rocks, 
and dark with trees, opening occasional glimpses of the 
stormy torrent below. These form one of the distin- 
guishing features of Scotch scenery. 

The villages are so widely separated from each other 
in Scotland, they fall so far short of the beauty of our 
own, and there are such long stretches of waste land be- 
tween them, and in every direction, that were it not for 
the excellent roads, and the careful cultivation which some 
parts displayed, I should have considered Scotland the 
new, and America the old country. It may appear 
strange, but such was the impression which it made upon 
my mind, and that with a force that the antique air of 
many a town, and the ruin of many a castle and church, 
scarce served to efface. 

Selkirk was one of the most interesting towns on the 
route ; its situation was very picturesque, on a beautiful 



139 JOURNAL. 

sloping hill, commanding a diversified and pleasing land- 
scape. 

Abbotsford, about thirty miles from Edinburgh, with 
its turrets and gables, rises up just above the thick foliage 
from the other side of the Tweed ; a scene of great 
interest to the transatlantic wanderer. As I intended 
making it a visit at a more distant period, T hastened by 
with less reluctance. 

About seven or eight miles before entering Edinburgh, 
we received two men on the coach who occasioned us 
some little anxiety. They had scarce taken their seats, 
before their countenances began to lower, and after a 
few moments' conversation they broke out with dreadful 
vehemence, asserting that there was a human corpse on 
the stage, and in no light language declaring that they 
would have the coach stopped the moment they arrived 
in Edinburgh. A young gentleman next to me, argued 
with them on the impolicy and danger of such a proceed- 
ing, and they finally consented to desist until we arrived 
at the office. Our situation would have been most alarm- 
ing if they had put their intention in execution. So 
deep and awful is the indignation which the idea of " a 
subject for dissection " excites amongst the lower class 
in Scotland, since the fearful deeds of Burke came to 
light. But whilst they were getting down a large blue 
box from the top, another gentleman and myself hastily 
arranged our baggage upon a car, and went to McKay's 
Hotel, in Prince Street. 

I shall never forget the interest which the entrance 
into Edinburgh excited in my mind. Night added to its 
wonderful influence. After entering the city, we dashed 
along for about a mile, through a well lit street, filled 
with shops, from which streets branched off at right 
angles, extending to such a distance that they at length 



JOURNAL. 131 

became blended in one common constellation of flame. 
They were full of people ; for a deep excitement prevail- 
ed respecting Reform ; and they awaited the London 
news upon the subject. We soon reached the north 
bridge. This is a heavy bridge of masonry, which passes 
across a deep and wide ravine, to connect the old and 
new city together. Here I was lost in wonder. Objects 
were just indistinct enough to be truly sublime. Far 
beneath, the lights flashed dimly upon forms that seemed 
of another world, they were so deep below. To the 
right, a hill rose with graceful swell, covered with monu- 
ments and columns upon which the moon shone steadily. 
To the left, the black battlements of a castle rose with 
stern and awful grandeur, above all other objects. On 
the one side of the ravine, Prince Street spread itself out 
with luminous splendor, for the length of a mile ; whilst 
on the other, a marvellous sight, the side of a broken hill 
seemed studded with ten thousand lights, which in reality 
flashed out from the high houses on the side of the ra- 
vine. It was to me a whirl of splendor, sublimity and 
amazement. Indeed, I could not obtain any just idea of 
what was the real nature of this strange and incompre- 
hensible scene. 

After breakfast I delivered a letter of introduction 
with which a friend had favored me to a Baptist clergy- 
man. He received me politely; made many inquiries 
respecting Mrs Huntington of Boston, whose memoirs 
had been read with deep interest in Scotland. He re- 
marked, " In religious biography you are a favored na- 
tion. We hear but little of you in any other respect here, 
but your memoirs are read with great interest in Great 
Britain, as presenting some fine displays of religious 
character." I think he remarked to me that he had pub- 
lished five editions of Mrs Huntington's letters within a 



132 JOURNAL. 

short period. He kindly offered to go with me in search 
of " lodgings." I promised to call at one o'clock for 
him. Before leaving, he invited me to dine with him 
next day at five o'clock. I then proceeded to present 
another letter of introduction. It was to a clergyman of 
the Established church. He was not at home ; his wife, 
however, to whom there were also letters, received me 
courteously, and after several inquiries concerning the 
family by whom I had been introduced, invited me to 
breakfast with them next morning. I perceived that I 
was in a country not my own ; some of the little arrange- 
ments of the room varied from our tastes ; for instance, 
there was a coal fire, gas-tube lights, and upon the 
mantel piece there were more little " nick-nacks/' than 
is common with us, or with the English. Besides this, 
there was, even amongst the well educated, a slight 
Scotch accent, while amongst the lower orders it became 
stronger and stronger through many shades almost up to 
perfect unintelligibility. 

As I walked round the city, I began to obtain 
correct impressions as to its character. Its air was truly 
grand. The style was so entirely different from our 
own, that to whichever preference should be given, it 
would be, not for any advance in the one upon the other in 
particular objects, or for any difference in degree, but 
rather for a distinction in kind. The character and 
grouping of everything was peculiar. I felt this to be 
the case most strongly as I walked along Prince Street. 
This is one of the most commanding streets in the city. 
It is a mile in length and perfectly straight. Its houses 
are all built of a light freestone. The lower story of 
most of them is occupied by shops or " stores," as they 
call them. The street is broad and stands on the edge 
of the ravine, of which I have already spoken. A 



JOURNAL. 133 

slender iron railing separates it from the depth below. 
At the one end of the street stands a fine large Episco- 
pal church in the modern Gothic style, at the other end, 
Carlton hill with its monuments, rises with Grecian splen- 
dor. But the view across the ravine is of surpassing 
interest. I never looked upon it without increased 
emotion. The castle towers up above all. It is firmly 
seated on the summit of a steep rock, its battlements 
rising with stern defiance, and its various ranges of wall 
frowning with cannon upon the town. There was a 
masculine and determined grandeur about it that could 
not but strike one with a certain feeling of awe. The 
houses corresponded in style with the castle. Their 
grouping was irregular, from being built along the top 
of the steep ridge of rock which overlooked the ravine. 
They were of various heights, from three to ten " stories/' 
and their walls looked black and beaten with battle. 
The whole scene breathed one spirit, so that there 
needed but the appearance of Murray, and the fierce 
spirits of his day, to step forth there once more with 
brazen mail, to bring back the temper of ancient times 
completely to mind. These two eras of civilization met 
the eye at a glance. The old city and the new, are 
connected together by a high mass of earth on the one 
end, and by a splendid bridge of masonry on the otlmr. 
This bridge is so high that two fine old churches stand 
almost under the shade of its arches. 

As it was one o'clock I called upon my polite and 
reverend friend, according to appointment. He had 
thrown aside his morning gown in which I had at first 
seen him, and was now dressed in black silk and short 
breeches, whilst some white linen shaded with crape, 
went over the cuff of his coat to indicate that he mourn- 
ed the loss of some relative. He informed me that he 
12 



134 JOURNAL. 

had to attend a funeral that afternoon, and remarked 
that the lateness of their hour for dining rendered it ne- 
cessary to select an early hour for the funeral service. 

After calling at one or two places, we found one which 

I decided to take, at least for a week. Mistress 

was not herself a Scotch woman, but let her " lodgings " 
after the national fashion. It is a system well fitted for 
scholars and persons of solitary habit ; for my own part, I 
grew quite partial to it, though I confess that I do not 
think it would generally suit our somewhat gregarious 
and inquisitive countrymen. After looking around the 
apartments and seeing that they were suitable for my 
purposes, I said, " Pray, Madam, w r hat are the terms 
upon which you let your rooms ?" She replied that it 
would be about three dollars. " And does that include 
my cooking ? " " Yes, sir, I shall purchase everything 
which you call for, and cook whatever you wish — I sup- 
pose you '11 not have a great deal of company. 57 " No." 
" And shall bring in the bill for the room and the articles 
I buy, at the end of the week, and I make no charge for 
cooking." These matters were soon arranged, and I 
enjoyed one of the pleasantest dinners in my quiet, inde- 
pendent bachelor's hall, that I had been privileged with 
for along time. 

There is a certain indescribable comfort which some 
of my readers perhaps may have felt, in finding their 
first resting place, a spot to retire from all vulgar ob- 
servation, after long travel in a strange land, where the 
thick group of objects and observations introduced into 
the mind all along the tide of travel, may be speculated 
upon, and if possible, generalized down into some sim- 
ple principles. There was therefore something like a 
settled complacency in my mood as I reviewed the com- 
plicated emotions which I had of late experienced, and 






JOURNAL. 135 

threw into some order, the ten thousand minute notices, 
that with the activity of instinct I had been making, of 
the spirit of the place which I breathed. To those who 
have not been affected with the same feeling, it will ap- 
pear singular that during the first week that I remained 
in Edinburgh, I occupied myself but little in viewing the 
city. But so it was. And I have ever considered those 
pauses in travel and investigation to be the very staple- 
links on which to fix accumulated and classified obser- 
vations. 



CHAPTER V. 

A Scotch Breakfast — Streets and Squares- — Dr Chalmers — Scotch Din- 
ner — American Ladies — Reform — Slavery — Church — Dr Channing 
— Tour to the Lakes — Fish-women- — Sail to Stirling-. 

October. At nine, called on the distinguished Dr 
D. by whom I was received in a very cordial manner. 
Besides his own family, two young gentlemen, " proba- 
tioners of the kirk of Scotland/' breakfasted with us. It 
would indeed prove an innovation to invite a stranger to 
take breakfast with us, especially upon a first acquaint- 
ance ; but there, nothing is more usual, and no meal 
more agreeable. Unlike dinner, its main object may be 
conversation. Its simplicity adapts it well for that pur- 
pose. There are no variety of courses to interrupt 
the march of reply and description. On the other hand 
there is just enough to be done amongst the dishes 
to furnish occasion for graceful pauses, and to secure 
new starting points when a period is finished, or when 
the first delicate intimations of propriety suggest that a 
subject connected with unsuspected prejudices should be 
laid under a cover. 

The doctor is a man active in his mind and manner. I 
found in him a warm friend. He was uniformly amiable 
and courteous, and his conversations on Biblical criti- 
cism, evinced as much accurate and scholarlike intelli- 
gence as I have discovered in any of his countrymen. 



JOURNAL. 137 

These subjects were more than alluded to whilst at 
breakfast. When I entered, the family were collected 
for prayers, which in a Scotch family generally precedes 
breakfast. The large Bible and several smaller ones, 
containing the Scotch version of the Psalms, were upon 
the white table-cloth. The doctor took the large one, and 
the others were handed round, as well to the servants as 
to the rest, and as the doctor read, all eyes followed him 
over the sacred page. A few verses of one of the Psalms 
were then read, and the doctor having sung the first line, all 
present joined in this elevating of the morning service of 
thanksgiving. One of the young gentlemen was invited 
to lead in prayer. The breathings of the christian spirit 
at the throne of the Redeemer, are everywhere the 
same. 

After prayers, whilst breakfast was placed on the table, 
the doctor said to me, " Are you yet ' a licentiate/ as 
you would say, or ' a probationer, 5 as we have it ? " He 
then commented upon this distinction in terms, as 
naturally growing out of the " different circumstances 
under which the church exists in the two countries." 
He made several inquiries respecting our mode of edu- 
cation, and seemed particularly well acquainted with the 
nature of our theological education. I may truly say 
that he was almost the only gentleman that I ever met with 
in Scotland who was particularly well informed upon 
the subject, if I except Dr Wardlaw, of Glasgow. He 
spoke in high terms of Prof. Stuart, of his grammar, and 
chrystomathy. He was not a little surprised to hear, how- 
ever, that our students were expected to be perfectly 
familiar with the sense and construction of the Hebrew 
scriptures, in a year's study. I remarked that it cer- 
tainly was realized at Andover, and by not a few of 
the students in our other theological seminaries. He 
12* 



138 JOURNAL. 

replied, " I wish it could be asserted of our clergy, but I 
fear scarce five could be found in Scotland with anything 
like an accurate knowledge of it." I was surprised, but 
further observation induces me to coincide in his opinion. 
The breakfast consisted of tea and coffee, rolls, ham, and 
eggs. I was not introduced to any of the family per- 
sonally, but the conversation was throughout perfectly 
unconstrained. 

This day called upon the celebrated Dr Chalmers. He 
resides at the west end of the city. There is a massive 
elegance in this part of the city, of the highest order. 
Everything here indicates taste and wealth. The streets 
are laid out in right lines, whilst crescents, squares, and 
hexagonal parterres 5 overlooked by beautiful houses, are 
suitably interposed to give a graceful variety to its char- 
acter. The houses were entirely constructed of stone. 
Their general height was three stories, but whether the 
houses formed, with extended line, a long street, or the 
smaller portion of a square, there was nothing tame in 
their front. The lower part was generally of rustic 
masonry, which conveys an idea of great stability ; whilst 
the upper part was not un frequently adorned with semi- 
columns or pilasters, which contribute not a little to 
give a spirit of elegance to the whole. The power of 
combination is here strikingly illustrated. In many a 
street and square there are stately edifices of uncommon 
grandeur. The retreating front obtains a noble charac- 
ter from the bold columns of its centre ; the advancing 
wings of the building are chastened by the soft curves 
of its fine semi-columns. On approaching, one discovers 
by the six or eight doors along the fine front, that it is 
not the palace of a single nobleman, but the elegant 
residence of several independent gentlemen. 

I have elsewhere remarked that with us a high price 



JOURNAL. 139 

is set upon humanity ; that the individual bears a value 
on his front commensurate with personal character, and 
irrespective of rank and wealth, and that the power of 
this sentiment is such as to open a kind of general and 
friendly communionship amongst all that meet through 
the hotels of the land. A sentiment in some measure 
opposite to this has produced entirely different results 
in English public intercourse. The action of this same 
principle is somewhat singular, and at first sight anom- 
alous, as it respects the style of building in the two 
countries. One might naturally anticipate from our 
gregarious habits, and from noticing all the facility with 
which strangers meet amongst us, that the same spirit of 
combination would be discovered in the arrangement and 
style of our houses. It is quite the reverse. Every one 
feels at liberty to build according to his own taste, or 
rather, in the spirit of the times ; he proceeds to do so 
with reference to no opinion but that of his architect, and 
controlled by no restriction but such as the civil authori- 
ties place upon all. If he unites with others to erect iC a 
square," or " court," as each holds a decided opinion of 
his own, the least possible ornament is too frequently the 
result, because each additional cornice and carving may 
subject them to a protracted controversy. In England 
it is otherwise — the power of repulsion is not a prin- 
ciple that operates against all, but the distinction of 
condition which would repel all inferior and opposite 
elements, naturally brings the kindred ones into a closer 
union. Behold this in some of the splendid edifices of 
Edinburgh. Without question the local authorities have 
exerted no small influence in this matter ; much also musi 
be attributed to a spirit of taste in the community, yet 
without the influence of the deep working principle which 
I have endeavored to illustrate, little would have been 



140 JOURNAL. 

accomplished. A city like Edinburgh might be built 
under other circumstances and influences ; but this 
first one, at once the type and effect of the principle, 
would never have been originated. This character ex- 
isted nowhere more distinctly than in the streets and 
squares around me — for Dr Chalmers lives in a handsome 
style in this part of the city. The door was opened by a 
female servant, and I was ushered into his study. The 
room was but partially lighted and was in some confusion- 
The cases were well filled with books, and not a few 
were scattered amongst the papers on the table. The 
doctor was writing when I entered. He received me 
politely, yet perhaps not with all the frankness which he 
would have done, had my letter of introduction been 
from one with whom he was acquainted. It was from a 
Professor in one of our institutions, whose name un- 
fortunately was unknown to him. After a few general 
questions respecting the Theological Institution at An- 
dover, of which he had before heard, he inquired whether 
the Professors ever preached. I told him that they did, 
though but occasionally. " 1 am opposed to the practice," 
said he ; " I would have the united energies of every 
man applied to that one object where his own genius and 
the directions of providence naturally point. I think 
it an evident principle of great power, though one too 
much neglected by the church ; but, sir, it appears ex- 
tremely apostolical to me ; there seems to have been a 
most systematic division of labor where mention is made 
of those whom God hath set in the church, first, apostles, 
secondarily, prophets, thirdly, teachers ; after that, helps, 
governments, &/C." 

Before leaving he invited me to breakfast with him 
Monday morning. Dr Chalmers is about the mid- 
dle stature and thick set. His head is large and phre- 



JOURNAL. 141 

nologically a fine one ; the forehead is bold and peculiar, 
the developement above the eyes full and striking, his 
nose straight and his mouth small, and in conversation 
very expressive. His complexion was that of the student, 
and brightened up with a pale and pleasing lustre in parts 
of the conversation; yet there was nothing either of 
manner or sentiment exhibited at this interview which 
indicated his great genius. 

No one could pass out of Dr Chalmers's door without 
wishing to take a broad view of the fine " Place," at the 
end of the street, and I naturally turned down in that 
direction. I have never seen a more pleasing taste in 
the arrangement of houses than Moray Place exhibits. 
Four noble streets enter the circle at right angles. On 
first entering this circus, the houses, of which there are 
perhaps about thirty, are so grouped as to form four 
imposing palaces. And yet these houses do not let for 
half so large a sum as many houses in Boston. Such is 
the power of combination. I continued my walk through 
Great King Street, another broad and splendid street, 
that displays the same style. This brought me to 
Drummond Place, a noble square, where I afterwards 
occupied rooms in the house of a most intelligent and 
interesting family. 

Man readily accommodates himself to his circum- 
stances. I should have regarded it impossible to have 
waited for dinner until five o'clock in Boston, where 
every one around dines at so much earlier an hour. 
But if I had not become quite habituated to the practice 
of late dining, I soon did so. 

It was five o'clock when I pulled the bell at Mr TVs. 
The house was lofty and large. " And so," said I to 
myself, " which is the bell amongst all this variety V* for 
not a few bell-handles were on the side of the door. On 



142 JOURNAL. 

examination I perceived a name written under each, 
which enabled me to make a correct selection. And 
now, I thought, I will watch to see the working of this 
door. Because when I rang the bell before, the door 
flew open, and no sooner had I entered than it closed 
with a spring behind me. I touched the handle and 
heard the bell ringing far up stairs ; presently with a 
twitch up goes the latch, the door opened, and entering, 
I found myself in " an entry," with a circular flight of 
stone steps before me. There was a spring and string 
connected with the latch by which all this witchery had 
been accomplished. This is one of the devices by which 
those who live upon the highest " flats," economize upon 
trouble. I ascended the stairs. At the head of the first 
flight a brass plate assured me that Mr T. lived there. At 
the top of the second " a flaxen haired lassie" held the 
door open for me to enter. 

Several gentlemen and ladies were present, to whom I 
was introduced. They did not appear so easy in their 
address as persons of the same rank of life with us. 
One of the gentlemen, Dr B., a distinguished physician, 
conversed with much spirit and intelligence. After a 
short time we were ushered to the dining room. Ac- 
cording to a national custom, as a stranger, I was seated 
next to Mrs T. The dinner was a very good one. Soup 
was followed by beef and mutton, chickens, ham, fish, 
and vegetables — * puddings, pastry, fruit and wines, 
completed it. There was nothing peculiar in the 
dishes, style of cooking, or in the arrangement of the 
table. 

During dinner the conversation was of a light and 
interrupted character. Flattering allusions were made 
to some of the American clergymen who had visited 
their city, particularly of Mr M m of Boston. 



JOURNAL. 143 

I found that America was much indebted to Mrs 
Huntington of Boston for not a little friendly and re- 
spectful feeling amongst the better classes in Great 
Britain. Her letters have perhaps been as extensively 
read by the christian community abroad as at home. 
Her character and the history of her family were there- 
fore a very frequent subject of conversation and inquiry. 
When therefore I remarked that I was from the same 
city, and that our family had been intimate with 
Mr and Mrs Huntington, and had enjoyed his pastoral 
guardianship, Mrs Huntington became the general sub- 
ject of conversation for a time. " Are her daughters all 
living V 3 asked one. " How feelingly and beautifully 

she speaks of her son J . He is doing well I hope ? 

I am almost certain that the ardent desires of the mother 
have been realized, strengthened as they were by so 
many prayers as I am sure must have been offered for 
them both by herself and others." Said a lady, " We 
know but little of the American ladies; we have no 
means of judging of their taste, feelings, education and 
character ; but inasmuch as we form a judgment from 
the letters and biographies of such ladies as Mrs Hunt- 
ington, our opinion would scarce be flattering to our own 
pride, for we have produced very little that is interesting 
in the department of female biography. 

The ladies left the table at an early hour. Mr T. came 
round and took the place of his wife, (a uniform practice, 
if I rightly remember,) and the glasses were filled " to 
the health of the ladies." On the subject of Reform, 
they expressed strong opinions. They seemed to feel in 
common with many of their countrymen, a deep and 
awful, but calm indignation for the reception the Bill had 
met with in Parlaiment. " Do you fear revolution? " I 
inquired, " for the pulse of party seems vehement and 



144 JOURNAL. 

agitated." " I do not. I think that the period has ar- 
rived in which great changes must take place ; but from 
the conduct of the country hitherto, I believe that it 
will be effected without bloodshed, and without arms, by 
the force of reiterated public opinion, perseveringly ex- 
pressed. We have learnt something about liberty and 
personal privilege from your country, and it will be real- 
ized here. But, sir, you have some strange anomalies 
in America. For there is no country in the world where 
there exists greater personal freedom, door by door with 
the most insulting tyranny. Pray how can you call 
yourselves a free and equal people, and boast, as you 
certainly do of it, whilst two- million slaves are retained 
in captivity in your midst? I cannot understand it." I 
explained to him that slavery was not common to all the 
states. But that at the north, the tone of feeling upon 
the subject was as healthy as in England. That much 
was doing at the north, by means of the Colonization 
Society, the ultimate influence of which was to destroy 
the system altogether. And that even at the south the 
moral sentiment upon this subject was far different from 
what he perhaps supposed it to be. That many dis- 
claimed the practice, and had let the captive go free. 
Whilst many others anxiously inquired, " what can be 
done to remove this great evil to which we were born ? " 
" That may be true — rather I know that it is, but it seems 
to me a deep stain on your national character, and has per- 
haps as great an influence as anything else, in placing a 
low value on your institutions in this country. There is 
your treatment of the Indians, also." He then made 
particular inquiries about the Choctaws and Cherokees. 
" I do not see," he remarked, " how you can answer to 
God or conscience for your treatment of those friendless 
people. It will be a scandal amongst the nations against 



JOURNAL. 145 

you ; if your better feelings do not master the base and 
grasping spirit of some of your southern states on the 
one hand, and on the other awe into a sense of duty the 
civil powers who have to do with this matter. Do Chris- 
tians suffer these things to pass in silence ? " 

After taking a cup of tea standing, some of the com- 
pany left, others stopped a little longer, and left after 
family prayers. 

Sunday. Attended church at Dr D.'s in the morning. 
The peals of the bells in every direction, reminded me 
much of a Sabbath morning in our cities. The side- 
walks were thronged with quiet and well dressed people ; 
there was an obvious difference, it is true, both as to the 
number of the lower class and the quality of their habili- 
ments much in our favor ; but a propriety and decency 
prevailed on every side such as is not to be seen in the 
populous cities of the sister kingdom. 

In the porch of the church, on each side of the door, 
were placed two large pewter dishes. In each of these 
were a great number of pence, sprinkled over with a few 
pieces of silver. It is the custom for every person that 
comes in, to add a trifle, which goes to the poor of the 
parish. It is one of the peculiarities of Scotland, and is 
to be found in the vestry of every church. 

The house was very plain inside, and reminded me 
not a little of some of the meeting-houses built by the 
venerable puritans. The pulpit was of wood ; in front 
of it was a desk for the precentor, and before that, a 
place set apart for those who present their children in 
baptism. The pews in the body of the house were 
square, with seats to lift up, like those of many a village 
church of ancient days with us. The precentor, like the 
clergyman, wears a gown. It is his office to announce 
the intention of marriage between persons belonging to 
13 



146 JOURNAL. 

the parish, and to pitch the tune and take the lead of the 
sacred music of the church. The services were simple. 
The sermon was a good exhibition of doctrine, without 
any peculiar excellence of style. The manner of its de- 
livery would have been considered tame with us. 

In the afternoon attended one of the " Independent 
Chapels." The sermon exhibited more correct feeling, 
than power of thought or pureness of style. 

Monday. Dr Chalmers received me politely, and in- 
troduced me to his wife and two daughters. Both tea 
coffee were on the table ; rolls, toast, ham, and eggs. I 
admired the mode of keeping the butter cool. It had 
been very prettily moulded into small pieces, something 
like strawberries ; these floated in a cut glass dish, filled 
with cool water. A small silver knife, resembling a 
silver dinner fork, except that it was turned off with a 
blade, was placed by its side. This is the usual manner 
of serving it, and I hope the practice will be generally 
received with us. 

The doctor displayed his powers more conspicuously 
than during my first interview. I unfortunately kept no 
minutes of the conversation, and I have met him so fre- 
quently since, that I feel a little uncertain as to the exact 
topics, though I remember some striking remarks. 
Strong sense and deep principles, capable of extended 
application and illustration, distinguish Dr Chalmers's 
ordinary conversation. He deals much with broad and 
noble principles. A clear conception of the great truths 
which form the base of reason, philosophy, and science, is 
the secret'of his peculiar excellence. He grasps a princi- 
ple with a mighty and steady hand, and applies to it all 
the severest tests of pure reason, in the solitary chambers 
of his own soul. Here he exercises his immense capa- 
bilities, unheard and unseen by the vulgar throng ; yet 



JOURNAL. 147 

perhaps it is here that he is called to the hardest opera- 
tions of his mind. But it is only when he intends to use 
it to a purpose, that his majesty appears to the world. 
Then, like the magician's wand, it commands order and 
light out of darkness and confusion, and the whole field 
of loveliness is filled with the glorious spirits that his 
enchantments have brought into being. Prof. Wilson, 
when once conversing with me on the mental capacities 
of this celebrated man, remarked, " Some persons ima- 
gine the most prominent feature of Dr Chalmers's 
mind to be fancy, feeling, and imagination. Doubtless 
he has them, but these are the lightest and least of his 
qualifications ; high and commanding reason is the bul- 
wark in which his genius is entrenched ; everything else 
1 his mind is relative to reason — springs up from it, is 
generated amidst the heat of its rapid operations, like the 
currents of air that whirl in the train of the furious and 
irresistible cannon ball. Wordsworth has imagination, 
pure and lofty imagination, in the highest sense of the 
term — but Dr Chalmers's command is over speculative 
reason. I once expressed that opinion somewhere, and 
was told that my views coincide with his own. In speak- 
ing of him, I should say therefore that his was not a mind 
of imaginative but of reasoning power." 

The doctor made inquiries about several American 
gentlemen whom he had met. He spoke of " the active 
and graceful turn of mind," and " the pleasing and 
courteous manners" of Mr Otis, the translator of Botta, 
who had visited him whilst in Europe. He alluded more 
than once in flattering terms to " the sound judgment, 
correct scholarship, and extensive information" of the 
Rev. Dr C. of Dorchester ; remarking, "I remember the 
conversation of that agreeable gentleman with much 
satisfaction." He asked me " Are you aquainted with 



148 JOURNAL. 

Dr. C. of Boston 1 a man of high genius." " Not per- 
sonally, but I have often heard him preach." In describ- 
ing him I remarked, " his eloquence is by no means that 
of manner, but of sentiment ; this gives intelligence to 
his eye, lights his countenance with expression, and gives 
impressiveness to the utterance of his finished mind." 
" That is the noblest order of. excellence, the burning elo- 
quence of thought," said the doctor. 

Mrs Chalmers is an accomplished woman ; and 
one can scarce help noticing some of the features of his 
mind interwrought into her character. With the Misses 
C, I enjoyed many an interesting conversation, and 
have every reason to be grateful to the family for their 
polite attentions to me whilst in Edinburgh. 

Tuesday. As the terms of the University were not 
to commence for a i'ew weeks, I decided to employ the 
intervening period in taking a tour to the far-famed lakes 
of Scotland. Taking my travelling bag, I mounted the 
omnibus at the head of " Leith Wynd." It was a ride 
of about two miles to the place from which the steamer 
starts. The houses on the way are handsome, but the 
gentlemen's grounds are too much concealed behind high 
walls. There is something to remind one of the entrance 
into Florence in this part of the environs of Edinburgh. 

The boat lay at the end of a long and narrow pier. 
Not much company was on board. I fell into conversa- 
tion with a young gentleman, who was very polite to me, 
and gave me some interesting information. 

Amongst the lower classes of Edinburgh the fish women 
are the most singular. It can hardly be said that they 
belong to Edinburgh, however, as they generally live in 
the towns along the Frith side, and come daily to the city 
to dispose of their briny treasures. Nor can they well be 
called Scotch, though they have been some two centuries 



JOURNAL. 149 

in the country. For their manners and dress, and their 
language amongst themselves, are still peculiar. Not a 
few of these were in the boat, carrying fish and oysters 
to the various towns upon the Frith. Said I to my com- 
panion, " Pray who are those singular personages?" For 
half a dozen of them came along the pier in their pecu- 
liar costume, bending down under their heavy baskets. 
They were a short, square, sturdy race. Their counte- 
nances were hardier than those of the hard working men. 
Their dress of thick woollen, shew many a fold ; a coarse 
blue gown was rolled up to the waist, a yellow robe with 
more than a single fold, came a little below the knee. 
Two heavy baskets were fitted to the shape of the back ; 
their weight was sustained by means of a broad leather 
strap which was fastened to the two ends of the lower 
one, and went round the forehead. They walked stoop- 
ing forward, so as to bring the weight upon the back, at 
the same time keeping both hands behind them, to afford 
it better support. " Yes, truly singular/' replied my 
companion ; " they are the fishwomen ; one can scarce 
call them Scotch, though they 've been in the country 
some two hundred years or so. They were originally 
Danes ; they devote themselves entirely to supplying the 
markets with fish — their husbands take the fish, and 
they bring them to the market. It is impossible for 
others to compete with them, they are so indefatigable. 
I dare say that some of these women have already walked 
five or six miles this morning. Perhaps you have heard 
their cry ?" " I believe not." " Well, it is a most sin- 
gular one, and in the winter nights you '11 hear it at least 
a mile in any part of Edinburgh, and you'll never forget 
1 el calla haddie,' after you have once heard it," which is 
certainly very true. " And what is ' el calla haddie ' ? " 
" I suppose," said he, " it means * Wha '11 hae fresh had- 
13* 



150 JOURNAL. 

dies ? ' " " And what are haddies 1 " " Why look you 
here," said he, and he opened a basket and shew me 
some fish resembling our torn-cod, whilst the woman 
asked, " Will ye ha' some oysters, me mon ? they 're a* 
jist liftit frae the water." 

The sail to Stirling is a delightful one. As one 
leaves behind the fine grouping of monuments, steeples, 
and domes of the city gathered around the walls of the 
mighty castle, the Frith of Forth became narrower and 
the scenery more picturesque. " That dark isle over 
there is' Inchcolm;' do you see that gray old ruin on it? It 
is connected with the early history of Scotland. Alexan- 
der the First was once crossing the Frith and being pre- 
served from a storm by St Columba, he erected that old 
monastery as a testimony of gratitude. That was in the 
twelfth century, and well the monks lived there too, till our 
thorough going reformers pulled some of its walls down 
about their ears." On either side of the Frith, towns 
are scattered here and there, by some of which we 
passed very close, and at others of which, we stopped. 
Many of them had an active air, but by no means the 
oicturesque beauty of towns of the same relative impor- 
tance in our country. The houses were generally cover- 
ed with white plaster and the population did not have so 
thrifty a look as with us. 



CHAPTER VI. 

The Ochils — Stirling- — The Trosachs — Loch Katrine — Ben Lomond 
— Dumbarton — Glasgow — Dr Wardlaw — The University. 

One of the most striking scenes on the voyage is the 
hills of Ochil. In some places they retreat from the 
water of the Forth, pressed down to the very horizon by 
heavy clouds ; now in dark and billowy masses they 
almost seem about to plunge into the narrow stream that 
rolls beneath them. The approach to Stirling on the 
Forth is by many a curve. Its first appearance filled me 
with awe. It was stretching itself from its black and 
rocky throne, as if in defiance, over the high and frown- 
ing tops of the Ochil. Behind it with all their majesty 
of clouds arose the Grampians ; these make the left, the 
Ochil the right of this imposing scene ; in front and cir- 
cled in by them is the vast, and beautiful plain through 
which the waters of the Forth like a curved line of silver 
fringed with green, pursue their calm and winding 
course. It was on this plain that William Wallace wrought 
vengeance on the base Southrons, rushing like a thunder 
cloud from the bosom of the Ochils. A curve in the 
river makes a beautiful change in the prospect. The 
heavy Ochils, which before seemed to make an unbroken 
barrier with the Grampians, against the waters of the 



152 JOURNAL. 

Forth, is left suddenly at the right, whilst on the left, 
hidden before by them, above a grove of trees rises Stir- 
ling, with its spires and pinnacles. On the plain below 
the town stands Graig Abbey, a ruinous Gothic building, 
and at its side with toppling walls, one angle only remain- 
ing, Cambuskeneth Abbey, the burial place of many of 
Scotland's kings and nobles. On my arrival in the 
town, quite venerable in its appearance, I proceeded to 
the castle, all parts of which I visited, (but this I leave to 
describe some other time). Stirling when approached 
does not possess that imposing appearance, which dis- 
tance and its truly commanding situation at first lend it. 
The external walls, at least those- immediately connected 
with the town, are not high. The approach to its 
gate-way is by rather a circuitous route, between low 
stone walls ; on each side of these, there is a court- 
yard, where the soldiers perform their military exercises, 
and from which they might seriously annoy an enemy, 
marching to attack the gates of the castle ; this termi- 
nates in the court yard. In front of the passage way 
runs another wall the whole length of the yard, which, 
as the other is only a projection, may be considered the 
main wall of the castle. The anterior wall appeared to 
me to have been added, not only for the sake of forming 
an inclosure, but to guard more safely this part of the 
castle for which nature has done least. Continuing on 
through the middle of the yard, you stand in front of its 
arched entrance, protected by drawbridge, moat, and 
heavy gates. Passing through this, you stand in another 
court, flanked on the one side by a heavy battery, over- 
looked on the other by a parapet, beyond which is the 
palace erected by James V. The gateway, defended 
also by round towers, is firmly secured by portcullis and 



JOURNAL. 153 

oaken gates. Within this to the right are dungeons, 
the store-rooms and barracks ; at right angles with these, 
and forming a side of this irregular space stands the cel- 
ebrated Parliament House. Nearly opposite the bar- 
racks is the front of the royal chapel ; the old palaces of 
James II. and V., making an obtuse angle with this, 
form something like a square. On the other side of the 
Parliament house is another court yard, beneath the pre- 
cipitous walls of which was the famous tourney ground 
in the days of its regal grandeur. Wallace tower is 
on the left part of the castle behind the palace of 
James V. 

I left Stirling in the afternoon and rode as far as Cal- 
lendar ; stopped there during the night; and in the 
morning, though in a violent rain, started off for the open- 
ing of the Trosachs. I passed over a route rendered 
classic by the pen of Sir Walter. The route by Loch 
Achray, even without those interesting associations which 
he has clustered around it, is very interesting, though I 
think inferior to many of our fine combinations of 
woodland and water scenery. The lakes are not suffi- 
ciently overhung by broad and shadowy trees, which 
render such scenery much more beautiful and pictur- 
esque than when laid bare by the axe. 

Border of Loch Lomond — Friday, Oct. 21. I have 
just sailed over Loch Katrine, visiting Ellen's Bower ; 
passed over McGregor's land, and am now waiting at 
Inversnaid for the steamer, in order to go to Glasgow. 
In passing over these spots, Scott's graphic descriptions 
are recalled to the mind on every hand. His description 
of the Trosachs, and the first appearance of Loch Katrine, 
are peculiarly just. 

Dunbarton — Friday, Oct. 21. After writing the 
above, whilst waiting for the steamboat, I ascended the 



154 



JOURNAL. 



high grounds, by Ben Lomond, pushing my way over 
heather and amongst high fern — scaling crags and ford- 
ing torrents — now breaking through thickets — now 
hanging like its ivy over the brow of some precipice, I 
was continually rewarded by the new and diversified 
scenes presented from the various points gained by my 
labor. I saw now the waterfall bursting from the grasp 
of gigantic rocks, leaping into fearful chasms, flinging up 
the foam in mad triumph, till with subdued and dignified 
indignation, it met the waters of Loch Lomond. Now I 
obtained a view of the dark and stern Ben Lomond, 
mantled with black clouds, with the waters of the Loch 
beating heavily round its sullen base — now of the 
widening expanse of the lake, with its frowning barrier, 
the formidable Ben Duckray, Ben Voirlich, and Ben 
Arthur. It was at Inversnaid that Wordsworth wrote 
one of his finest poems. 

" But I, methinks, till I grow old, 
As fair a maid shall ne'er behold 
As I do now — the cabin small, 
The lake, the bay, the waterfall, 
And thee ! the spirit of them all." 

I am sure the sun and clouds must have been in a very 
different mood, when this was penned, from what they 
were when I stood gazing on the lowering scene which 
I have hastily described above. As I descended the hill, 
the steamboat with its curling smoke and foaming wake, 
was to be seen at a distance, approaching Inversnaid. 
As it drew near, I put ofT in a boat and was taken on 
board. We sailed up to the head of the lake, by Mc- 
Gregor's cave, quite a rude and common one, and then 
reversing the course, we sailed the whole length of the 
lake, from Ardvoirlich in the north, to Balloch, its south- 
ern extremity. The scenery of this Loch very much 



JOURNAL. 155 

resembles that of the North river. On the way down, 
we passed the formidable rock of the bold outlaw, and 
in the southern part, steered a circuitous course amongst 
the beautiful islands which seem to float upon its surface. 
At Balloch we took the coach and rode to Dumbarton, 
five miles, where we arrived just at dark. It was too late 
to see the ancient and famed castle. As I was musing 
on its dark and eventful history, I was startled by the 
heavy tolling of a bell, just suited to my conceptions of an 
alarm bell — by the distant murmurs of a crowd, the dis- 
charge of fire-arms, and the heavy roll of the cannon's 
thunder, and increasing sounds of tumult. I sprang up, 
expecting it was some tumult amongst the reformers. I 
was mistaken ; the bell indicated some stir connected 
with the corn market ; the cannon and shouting were 
but the civic expressions of numerous carpenters and 
laborers after a famous launch. Now, as 1 write, the 
house is full of them : for in a distant part of the building 
they have a most notable ball. Such a multitude of 
sounds as this gives rise to, I scarce ever heard. Now 
hallooing and stamping with their thick and iron brogues, 
twenty or thirty tumble with uncouth sounds and rude 
laughter, through the entry ; now from the hall I hear 
the rich full strains of a female voice, to the words of 
" Auld lang syne," and other tunes, occasionally broken 
by the chorus of some hundred voices ; now the squeaking 
fiddle, almost drowned by laughter, and all that sweet 
combination of melody which a half tipsey rabble with 
feet and hands and tongues, in their most active employ- 
ment, are so naturally calculated to produce. 

As the boat was to leave Dumbarton at half past seven 
for Glasgow, I rose in the morning at five, that I might 
have a view of the ancient, and storied citadel. It was 



156 JOURNAL. 

raining very hard ; however, I was determined not to be 
deterred from my visit, so under shelter of coat and um- 
brella, started off to view it with the earliest light. When 
I arrived, the outer gates were closed, but the centinel 
greedy for a fee, immediately called the corporal of the 
guard, who permitted him to open them. A soldier was 
sent with me to conduct me round the castle. This 
place owes little to art, but much to nature. It is built 
upon two massive rocks, nearly surrounded with water. 
They rise abruptly to an alarming height ; their bases 
connected, their peaks separated from each other by na- 
ture, but firmly united by art. Like the castle of Stirling, 
Dunbarton has a number of courts ; the walls of one, 
towering above those of another, so that when one is 
taken, the assailants have only secured a place more ex- 
posed to peril, into which the weapons of the besieged 
could be cast with surer and deadlier effect. The ascent 
in one place is through the sundered rock, up a very 
steep flight of narrow steps. It w T ould seem impossible 
that this ever could be taken, for being open on the top, 
a shower of missiles could be kept up on those beneath, 
whilst the dizzy height would almost render it impossible, 
with any effect, to hurl them back. Above, what may be 
considered the main part of the castle, the rocky peak, 
accessible only by a narrow circular flight of stone steps, 
lifts its bold black brow. Up this, a weary way, I wound, 
though compelled to cling to the iron railing with both 
hands, as fierce gusts of wind at times almost swept me 
from my feet. The view from the top is a very extensive 
one, but owing to the heavy sky, not favorable when I 
was there. Beneath, everything diminishes into insigni- 
ficance ; vessels on the Clyde, factories, hills, with 
villages upon their sides ; and the several parts of the 
extensive landscape, seem only a very small, natural and 



JOURNAL. 157 

beautiful panorama. This top, which is surrounded by a 
small tower called Wallace's watch tower, is the last re- 
treat to which its defeated occupants could fly. But 
this, from its dizzy and almost inaccessible height, to- 
gether with its extensive under-ground works, where its 
provisions, and those soldiers unnecessary for immediate 
duty, might find comfortable accommodations, would 
afford refuge for a long time against any number of 
assailants. However, coming from a land of rocks as I 
do, I confess I was disappointed to find that its grandeur 
and sublimity arose more from the rude black battlements 
of nature's shaping, than from the strength, boldness, and 
towering height of human masonry. 

Immediately after my visit to this place, I took the 
steamboat to Glasgow. The passage was extremely 
windy and rainy ; so much so, that it was impossible to 
keep at all on deck, notwithstanding the promptings of 
curiosity, which would have induced me to do so, had it 
been in the least practicable. 

On my arrival at Glasgow, I started oft to find a hotel, 
or, if I could, private lodgings ; which, in such a place 
as this, a person should take, even if he intends to remain 
but three or four days. These I procured after some 
trouble, for about six shillings per week, at the house of 
an intelligent, kind, and pious man, Mr H., member of 
Dr Wardlaw's church, to whom he appeared to be devo- 
tedly attached. Since my visit I have had an opportunity 
of examining the town pretty minutely. On the Sabbath 
I heard an excellent discourse in the morning from Dr 
Wardlaw, which he treated in a clear, exegetical, and an 
interesting practical manner. In the pulpit he is much 
such a looking man as Dr W., of Cambridge ; appearing 
somewhat younger, but unconstrained and rather ener- 
14 



I08 JOURNAL. 

getic in his manner. I had a personal interview with him 
at his house the next day, and was highly pleased with him. 
He has a very handsome head, wears his hair much like 
his friend Dr W. of Andover, and exhibits great pleas- 
antness and courtesy of manner. He appears to possess 
great refinement of mind, united with elegance and pro- 
priety of diction, as well as a just and forcible enunciation ; 
points in which the clergy of this country, certainly as 
far as I have met with them, even when not remarkable 
for originality or talent, are peculiarly distinguished. 

Glasgow contains some very tasteful and elegant 
buildings, both private and public edifices, and though 
well laid out, falls very far short of Edinburgh, in all that 
is beautiful and rich. The University is a very large 
building, with two entrances. Its style is quite ancient, 
its ornaments the taste of a time long departed. It has 
one or two inner court-yards, connected together by 
arches or gates. The buildings fronting on these, appear 
to be appropriated partly to lecture-rooms, partly for the 
residences of professors, tutors, sanitors, &/C. In these 
courts you will meet the students in their fantastical red 
gowns at all hours, nearly. Those whom I saw were 
chiefly lads of about sixteen or seventeen years of age 
only, the older classes not having yet arrived. 

Connected with the University, is the celebrated Hun- 
terian Museum. At this place, I passed two hours with 
great pleasure. The collection is an admirable one. 
The arrangement is very scientific. The animals are 
disposed in such a manner as to produce a very fine 
effect. The ornithological department is excellent, as 
far as it extends. The ancient relics, and the antique 
and modern coins, are very interesting, from their num- 
ber, variety, and rareness. The collection of barbarian 



JOURNAL. 159 

weapons, is by no means uninstructive. That of books, 
manuscripts, and human preparations, is extremely rare 
and costly. But amongst all these, I found the most ex- 
quisite delight in the gallery of paintings, where are to 
be seen some beautiful and most talented productions. 

Note. We find no record made in Henry's Journal, of his re- 
turn to Edinburgh : nor does it appear that he recorded anything 
in it, till the J 9th December, with which the next chapter com- 
mences. — Ed. 



CHAPTER VII. 

Chantrey's Statue of George IV. — Holyrood Abbey — Dalkeith — Holy- 
rood Castle — New Years's Day — Dinner Party — Religion in Scotland 
— Dudington Loch — High Church — Rev. Mr G — y — Royal Institu- 
tion — Carlton Hill — Sessional School — Blind Boy — Prince street. 

Monday, Dec. 19. Took tea with Mr W. a respecta- 
ble merchant. A number of pleasant and sensible gen- 
tlemen and ladies passed the evening with us. Conver- 
sation turned principally, indeed solely, on America. 
This naturally threw the conversation chiefly into the 
hands of Mr B. a young American clergyman, and myself. 
I was called on for a description of our system of edu- 
cation, which I was enabled to give, as well as some ac- 
count of the revivals with which many of them have been 
blessed. I also described to one or two gentlemen the 
nature of our elective system. 

Saturday, Dec. 24. Today the holidays commence. 
Called on Sir Roger Hale Sheafe. Pleasant gentle- 
manly old man, in his manners as well as his mind ; time 
is evidently working its changes with him. Conversed 
much respecting Boston, his old friends, and of the 
changes since his last visit in 1808. On my return I 
passed the fine statue of George IV. by Chantrey. It 
exhibited all the boldness of outline which Chantrey 
manages to combine with such softness in the flow of his 
drapery. The statue is of bronze, raised on a granite 



JOURNAL. 161 

pedestal. The figure is remarkably erect, the weight of 
the body resting chiefly on the left foot, the right being 
thrown forward ; the head is thrown back, in my humble 
opinion rather too far, for there is certainly something de- 
tracted from the dignity of his countenance by it. In his 
right hand he holds the Scottish sceptre, not to my mind 
gracefully ; his left either grasps the folds of his mantle or 
else slightly projects beyond them. The whole arrange- 
ment of costume is easy and elegant. Though there 
is much to admire in this statue, I think it inferior to 
others of his, which T have seen, especially that of Wash- 
ington in the State House of Boston. 

Dec. 27. In the morning visited Holyrood Abbey 
and Palace. The chapel is a very ancient Gothic 
building, black and wasted by time. Parts of it are 
seven hundred years old. The walls and pillars of 
one side of the building only remain, the roof and the 
pillars of the other having fallen down some time since. 
These crumbling ruins, the heavy columns with their 
wasted carvings, Gothic windows, shaded with ivy, 
the fallen cornices and ornamental work, the black 
and illegible monuments of the dead, all conspire to give 
an air of grandeur and gloom to this once splendid and 
royal chapel. In one corner was the sepulchre of the 
Scottish monarchs. But time had not trodden lighter on 
the spot. It was distinguished by no blazonry ; not even 
a name or coronet marked the receptacle of kings ; it was 
a simple wall of stone rising about four feet ; it was cov- 
ered with crumbling stone. Its entrance was secured 
by a small wooden door with a padlock. Diagonal to 
this, stands Mary's confessional, in which is the grim 
figure of Lord Belhaven, carved in marble, over his 
sepulchre in the wall ; all the ceiling above this place 
having fallen, and but little light penetrating the con- 
14* 



162 JOURNAL. 

tracted windows, the place is rendered gloomy enough 
for the imagination of the most wild. From the Abbey 
I went to the Palace; visited the gallery, where in stiff 
robes and grim features, are some miserable paintings 
called the Scottish Kings. From this place visited 
Mary's apartments ; these preserve the same character, 
the same furniture, and tapestry, that they had when the 
royal Mary occupied them. Mary's bed, and also that 
where Charles slept, remain as in days gone by, except 
that the silken coverlets are giving full evidence that 
they are by no means proof against the assaults of time. 
Around Mary's bed was an iron railing to keep off 
vulgar hands from the couch of royalty. We were shown 
into the ante-chamber, where her unfortunate secretary 
Rizzio was seized ; here were the heavy armor and boots 
of Darnley, a fine painting on marble of the holy Virgin, 
and an interesting head of Darnley. We were then 
shown the secret staircase, hidden by tapestry, up which 
the ruffians came with their deadly intent ; and also the 
place where they dragged their victim and performed the 
atrocious act. The old lady endeavored to point out 
the blood which some think still stains the spot. 

Dec. 28. Went to Dalkeith — six miles from Edin- 
burgh. It is a small town, with an old ruined church. 
My visit was not rewarded by an entrance into the Duke 
of Buccleuch's domains, the family residing at that time 
at the palace. In the evening Rev. Mr Innes and Mr 
Cullen called to ask me to go to Leith on V/ednesday to 
speak at a Temperance meeting, and to dine with Mr 
C. on the next day. I was obliged to decline the latter, 
but promised to comply with the former request, which I 
did. The church was very crowded and remarkably at- 
tentive ; many joined the society — amongst whom was 
one clergyman, whilst another promised to give the matter 



JOURNALi 163 

a serious consideration. My American friend and fellow 
student Mr B., also took part, and afterwards went with 
me to Mr C.'s where we took supper. Before this, as is 
the custom in almost all Scotch families, the household 
were called in, a chapter of the bible read, each one fol- 
lowing the reader in his own bible, and the throne of 
grace humbly approached by Mr C. He requested us 
to lead, but as we had both spoken at some length, and I 
had closed the meeting with prayer, we declined. We 
had a very pleasant conversation at supper, respecting 
the American church, clergy, revivals and modes of ad- 
mission into our churches. It was late when we parted. 

Thursday, Dec. 29. Dr H. Black, LL. D., called in, 
wishing to hear my address — and to consult on the sub- 
ject of establishing a religious newspaper. In the 
evening took tea with himself and brother, and accom- 
panied them to the Mechanics' Institution, where the 
younger Mr Black delivered a lecture on the French 
language ; it was calculated to be highly useful ; more 
strict attention I never saw in any assembly in my life. 
The mechanics of Edinburgh are a very well informed 
community of men — a proof of the advantages of iy- 
ceums and such institutions. 

Friday, Dec. 30. Visited the castle. More im- 
pressed by its situation, strength, extent and grandeur 
than by any which I have yet seen. It appears almost 
impregnable against any force, even with the heaviest 
battery — how much more so, against the assaults of 
simpler and less efficacious engines of war. I noticed 
here one enormous cannon ; its bore was twenty two inches 
in diameter, and its length in proportion. It would have 
admitted a man very easily into its huge cavern, with a 
charge of powder and ball beneath him, and forsooth I 
believe with the aid of a little fire, it would project him 



164 



JOURNAL. 



to the top of Arthur's Seat. Having wandered for an 
hour or two over all parts of its heavy ramparts, I at 
length visited the crown room, where the splendid rega- 
lia of Scotland are deposited. Here was a splendid 
chain of gold glittering with gems and connected with 
two orders of honor, that of St George and St Andrew, 
both extremely splendid. St George was a golden 
knight on a golden charger trampling on and contending 
with the Dragon, the whole so besprinkled with diamonds 
as to flash like sunlight on the eye. With these lay 
the splendid jewelled ring of Charles. The mace, sword 
and sceptre of Scotland were laid around the velvet 
cushion where the ancient and jewelled crown of Scot- 
land reposed. This though made in 1314 is in admira- 
ble preservation ; I doubt in fact whether anything but 
the gold and pearls, and various jewels are so ancient ; I 
am sure the ermine cannot be so old. This must be 
extremely valuable, as four pearls alone which swim at 
equal distances around it, are estimated at two thousand 
pounds. In the room was the old oaken chest where 
they were so long concealed — one hundred and seven- 
teen years, I think — this room being one of those in the 
castle, which could only be opened by a commission of 
Parliament. 

From hence I went to the celebrated grass market, 
renowned in history, the scene of the famous Porteous 
mob. Here time wears on apsce ; many a tottering ga- 
bled or castellated pile, speaking of times of ferocity and 
blood. 

Sunday — New Year's day. Went to hear Mr G — y, 
of the established church, in the morning. Very good 
sermon — adapted to the New Year, from Genesis ; " The 
days of the years of my pilgrimage have been few and 
evil." His prayer was remarkably good. After the ser- 



JOURNAL. 165 

vice, he remarked that he wished to begin the year with 
some improvements on their part; and therefore begged 
leave to say that he intended to meet on Wednesday eve- 
nings, the young men of his parish, as he had done the 
young ladies, for religious instruction. And also would 
propose to the church, as he knew it to be very much 
desired by many, that from two, they should increase the 
number of sacraments to four each year. In the after- 
noon, went to Dr Dickson's. A very good and faithful 
sermon. A long list of names read oft for marriage, and 
a number of children presented for baptism, which, ex- 
cepting the covenant, differs in nothing from the form 
with us. In the evening, went with Mr B. and Dr Black, 
to visit a deaf and dumb Sabbath school. The teacher, 
as well as the scholars, was deaf and dumb. I felt deeply 
interested, and was led by the visit, to many useful re- 
flections — promised some day to call and have some 
further intercourse with him. 

I have finished one, and am now commencing another 
year ; how much, in looking back, do I perceive to regret 
and mourn over. Surely my days have been spent for 
nought ; yet with the assistance of the divine Spirit, I will, 
during the days of the present year, put aside those things 
which cause to err, and devote myself more exclusively 
to those objects, for which man was endowed with his 
privileges and powers. Surely God will bless me if I 
walk in his fear, and with desires for his glory. 

Monday. In the morning, took a ramble with Mr B. 
in the Meadows, as they are called, between Edinburgh 
and the Pentland hills. This is a beautiful' country, 
pleasantly diversified with gentle slopes and lawns, and 
rendered picturesque by the villages or castellated houses 
embosomed in trees, which appear in every direction. 
The view of Edinburgh is particularly striking from 



166 



JOURiNAL. 



these meadows ; Herriot's hospital, and some other noble 
edifices being displayed to great advantage. 

Dined in the afternoon with Mr O. — Very pleasant 
family ; three daughters, and also several sons. The 
eldest daughter, a fair specimen of Scotch beauty, 
was peculiarly soft and winning in her manner. — 
Frankness, with becoming modesty, and many smiles 
without laughter, gave a very interesting character to 
features, which if not strictly regular, were most happily 
combined. Her forehead was broad, retiring from its 
arch with a beautiful curve, and less shaded with her 
fine auburn tresses than is common ; her nose was not 
formed with Grecian regularity, but her mouth was play- 
ful, and her chin like chisseled ivory ; like the Scotch 
ladies in general, her neck was finely modelled ; her 
graceful shape was nearer that which we admire, than is 
often found in Scotland. The eldest was also pretty. 
The youngest, with her strong aquiline features, her 
black tresses flowing carelessly over her fine Grecian 
head, was just ripening into womanhood ; merry and 
free, as guileless, save to win a smile, as a bird among 
the leaves. The evening was spent in playing intellect- 
ual games, and in listening to fine music. 

Tuesday. Classes commenced. In the evening, ac- 
cording to engagement, visited Mr N., Carleton Terrace ; 
a very pleasant party. In one of the rooms a cotillon or 
quadrille was danced. The ladies and gentlemen mpved 
as it seemed to me, in a very melancholy manner through 
the figures. In the other room we had a very pleasant 
conversation respecting Dr Channing, Dr Payson, and 
their great favorite, Mrs Huntington. Of this lady's let- 
ters, I met with a copy a day or two since, of the fifth 
edition. At about ten we went down stairs and had an 
excellent supper — ham, tongues, jellies, tarts, raisins, 



JOURNAL. 167 

fruits ; and after the rattle of knife and fork had ceased, 
some gentlemen and ladies favored us with several fine 
songs. 

Wednesday. Attended the classes — walked for an 
hour to Dudington, to see the skaters — many awkward, 
but some very graceful ones. The walk round the dark 
cliffs which form the Arthur's Seat, very wild and inte- 
resting. Spent the evening at home. 

Thursday. Passed the evening at Mr G — y's — 
pleasant and animated conversation on national habits 
and peculiarities — illustrations of New York — Lowell 
— Erie canal — Mississippi river, and concluded the 
evening by conducting family devotions ; after which we 
retired. 

Friday. Took breakfast at nine with Dr Chalmers, 
two other gentlemen present. Conversing on Butler as I 
entered. Dr C. remarked, " I am told Butler was thirty 
years composing his Analogy ; that is the way, gentlemen, 
to be great ; concentration of mind to one object leaves 
a durable monument of mind, against which age makes 
its shocks in vain." I remarked that I was convinced of 
the force of his observation ; that Gray by devoting eleven 
years to his Elegy, had established a character for all 
ages ; that certain of the Latin poets had immortalized 
themselves by the genius stamped on a single ode or 
satire ; so more especially among the Greeks ; indeed, if 
of Athens there had but one ruin remained, and that 
had been the Parthenon, and of Greece but one poem, 
that of Homer, Athens and Greece would have lived for- 
ever. At breakfast talked of reform, English establish- 
ments, American literature, and of literary men. The 
Doctor is hardly a half-way reformer; thinks reform 
necessary, but thinks it should first be principally in ed- 
ucation ; thinking the bands should be moderately and 



168 



JOURNAL. 



gradually loosed. On establishments be of course took 
pretty high ground, though he allowed great abuses ex- 
isted ; but these he insisted were much exaggerated, es- 
pecially as respected tithing and salaries, which would 
apply also to the Scottish clergy. If lawyers or laymen 
had been in their places^ four times as much would have 
been raised. I spoke of the attention paid with us to 
sacred literature, and the eminence in which purely 
literary men stood among us, which very much surpris- 
ed them all, and one remarked he had just seen some 
wonderful productions from America, which went to 
strengthen my remarks. 

[In a letter written by Henry to his friends, about this time, 
he gives the following description of the state of religion in 
Scotland, which we introduce in this connexion. Ed.] 

It is an interesting matter of inquiry, with an Ameri- 
can,^ ascertain what is the true state of the church, and 
the present state of religion in Scotland. To answer 
this in an intelligible and satisfactory manner would 
require a deeper investigation than I am at present able 
to give it, as the nature of their establishments, the 
character of their education, and what may be called 
the natural susceptibilities of the people for religious 
feeling, would all have to be adverted to, in a greater or 
less degree. In a general way however, I may reply 
that religious feeling is at present all that could be 
wished, in Scotland, and this may be attributed mainly to 
the connexion that here holds between church and 
state. The church it is true exercises little if any influ- 
ence over the state, but the state does cramp and 
control and give an unnatural tendency to the energies 
of the church. And this may be plainly seen in a 






JOURNAL. 169 

number of particulars. To these I shall only briefly 
allude: 1st. The clergyman is not chosen by his church 
or elders ; neither is he selected for them by the Presby- 
tery, but the living, as it is called, is either in the hands 
of government, or in the right of bestowment of some 
titled gentlemen, and they, be it the one or the other, 
dispose of it according to their pleasure. Thus, too 
often is it bargained off to some gentleman, who has the 
" right of vote," for his favor in a contested election, 
and by him transferred to his son, perhaps little liking, 
and as little prepared for the duties to which it intro- 
duces him. Upon him then the living is bestowed. 
This must be sanctioned by the Presbytery of the coun- 
ty, but such a system renders a veto from them a thing 
not to be expected. He is admitted to the church with 
scarce a word of inquiry, and as to personal piety, this is 
passed over very carelessly, if it is touched at all. To 
get a living therefore is in truth to get a settlement. 
This fact alone must throw a suspicious character over 
the clergy. 

2d. These endowments or livings are fixed, and were 
fixed long since ; whilst the degree of population has 
much increased, and is still increasing. Thus if a cen- 
tury ago, limits were marked off for a parish which then 
contained two thousand inhabitants, it may have in* 
creased to ten or fifteen thousand, whilst the means of 
supplying their spiritual wants have remained stationary. 
The parish has now, as then, but its single steeple to 
attract the thousands, who in dense crowds lose sight of 
an object so distant. Government is and ever will be 
slow to supply this deficiency. It does sometimes annex 
what are called " chapels of ease," to receive the over- 
grown population, in or near cities ; but this is rare, and 
then I believe the expense falls on the seat holders. 
15 



170 JOURNAL, 

This has rendered the number of churches altogether in- 
adequate to the exigencies of the people, and has 
also rendered the seats very high to many who occupy 
them ; for this is exacted, notwithstanding that the cler- 
gyman is paid by government. 

3d. From its connexion with the state the right of 
communionship becomes almost a civil duty. It is to 
make a kind of universal privilege irrespective of charac- 
ter, at least of religious character. 

Thus whilst its union throws over the church that kind 
of respectability, which adds not essentially to its chris- 
tian strength and beauty, it gives it that air which allures 
those whose character and energies will really diminish 
and restrain the power which might continue in it. It 
may therefore be said that a Scotch church, even when 
the pastor is pious, has no distinctive character. It has 
not a pure, unmixed character : it may embody some good 
elements, but these are weakened by the materials that 
surround and confine them. These are the chief evils ; 
one can readily conceive the prodigious evils which they 
are pregnant with, to the warmth and purity of a healthy 
religion. Were I to conclude here, one might almost 
infer that the wing of desolation had long ere this swept 
over the land ; that infidelity or indifference, that here- 
sies and dangerous errors, were deeply engrafted on the 
soil. But the case though bad, is not so bad as that. 
The tendencies of the system are undoubtedly to produce 
such effects. But these tendencies are counteracted by 
other influences possessing very considerable power. The 
first of these which lightens up the else forbidding pros- 
pect, that I shall mention, is the restraining influence of 
the Dissenters. For as one might hope, and have sup- 
posed, no inconsiderable body of such churches have 
been formed by those who were opposed to the corrup- 






JOURNAL. 171 

tions of the Established Church. Of these, one part are 
" Presbyterian Dissenters," the other, " Independents/' 
or as we should call them, " Congregationalists." The 
latter are of course divided into various, but I believe 
exclusively evangelical sects. The two parties together 
make a body nearly as numerous as that of the Estab- 
lishment, and this is decidedly the most efficient part of 
the church. Their exertions tend to keep alive the spirit 
of religion through the community. 

Besides their appropriate circle of influence, they are 
a thorn in the side of the Establishment, to quicken its 
dignified, or rather its lazy movements. Their watchful- 
ness, and remarks and censures have rendered the Estab- 
lishment rather more circumspect than it otherwise would 
be. This then is the first offset to the evils that I have 
mentioned. The next which I shall notice is the cate- 
chetical instruction afforded to youth ; and the practice of 
lecturing, in which much doctrinal matter is necessarily 
brought out before the more mature, whatever may be 
the experimental feelings of the preacher. The first of 
these is effected by means of bible classes, where the 
tender mind is deeply impregnated with the definitions, 
and doctrines of the Assembly's Catechism. The 
system of lecturing is simply this. One part of the Sab- 
bath is devoted to a sermon, the other part is occupied 
by the explanation of some book of the Old or New Tes- 
tament. Each Sabbath a number of verses are read, and 
the meaning of the writer brought out. Here then is 
not the same opportunity for divergence from doctrine, 
afforded the lax preacher; whilst it opens to the faithful 
one, an excellent opportunity for communicating a 
knowledge of the scriptures to his hearers. For what we 
study in connexion we study with more attention, and 
treasure up more strictly. Everybody carries his bible 



172 



JOURNAL. 



to meeting, and follows the reasonings and explanations 
of the clergyman. 

The knowledge which in these two ways, is obtained 
of scripture and doctrine, may be considered as another 
check to irreligion in the land. I will now briefly in the 
next place advert to the peculiar character of the Scotch, 
as a guard against the progress of moral decay. 

The susceptibilities of a people may be regarded as 
more or less disposed to regard and cherish (humanly 
speaking) serious thoughts. The French are not natu- 
rally thoughtful upon these matters; the Scotch are. 
They are a reflective as well as a warm-hearted people; 
and their minds are peculiarly open to the solicitations 
of religion. Besides the stability that this characteristic 
gives to religion, it derives not a little additional strength 
and permanency from another, which is, their love and 
reverence for old forms. This is quite astonishing to 
one who has lived among the plastic elements of a grow- 
ing community. But here alterations proceed very slow- 
ly. Every innovation is regarded with a wakeful jeal- 
ousy; the whole system has become consolidated, and 
rigid and unyielding. Thus any change of habit is look- 
ed at, as trenching on fixed and constituted right, so that 
heresy of opinion, I fear, would give a much more violent 
shock to the notions of propriety , than to the hearts of 
many. But still this has some advantages, as one will 
not fail to see. This feeling makes it rather a rare thing 
to find respectable houses " where the Book is not taken," 
as it is called, and prayers offered, at least at night, by 
the head of the family, as well as blessings craved be- 
fore every meal. This fact will perhaps serve to throw 
some light on what I have said. That they dare to do it 
without piety, is to be ascribed to the first causes I have 
mentioned; that they do perform it at all, to the last. I 



JOURNAL. 173 

shall enumerate two more; the first of these is the little 
concern which the people have in the measures of the 
government. They pay little attention to politics. The 
second is strictly connected with the first, the gen- 
eral diffusion of education and knowledge by means of 
their excellent parochial schools. This gives activity to 
their minds. Not being engrossed by politics, the bent 
of their genius goes to theology, and this circumstance 
renders theology a prominent topic of conversation, but 
alas, too much in its dry detail, among a certain class of 
society. Thus whilst so many circumstances tend to 
press religion pure and undefiled from the field, there are 
others which contend powerfully in its favor. Thus a 
picture dark in the distance, brightens up as you ap- 
proach it. But lest I should have spoken in too general 
a manner, (for I must of course speak in a general man- 
ner) let us now endeavor to throw a little more light up- 
on the picture, by drawing some of its lines more boldly. 
Of the Established Church, I have spoken in general 
terms of disapprobation. Thus as a whole, it should be 
regarded. But when you turn from it as a whole, and 
regard in detail, many, very many, interesting and pious 
individuals both as clergymen and laymen, are to be dis- 
covered. Not a few in both of these classes I have the 
pleasure of ranking amongst my personal friends, and 
readily yield them the tribute of my love and respect. 
These honestly believe that the Establishment is the best 
system for the wide diffusion of religion, which in a de- 
praved world could be formed. They say, why take 
away the Establishment, if it does accomplish the least 
good ? Why then remove it? However, I cannot enter 
into a discussion of this question. 

Among the champions of the Establishment, and he 
15* 



174 JOURNAL. 

certainly is an honest and great one, standing prominent in 
the first rank, appears Dr Chalmers. The whole weight of 
his genius he has put forth on this subject, w r hich he cer- 
tainly manages in a most magnificent, and to many, a most 
convincing manner. But if he has done injury in this 
respect, and if the Establishment is injurious. in its ten- 
dencies, he certainly has aimed, and continues most 
strenuously to aim at the overthrow of many of its evils; 
and in his lectures to the young men wiio are to hold its 
parishes, to impregnate the machine not only with the 
proper energies, but with the proper spirit. Himself and 
some kindred minds, and the causes above mentioned, 
give a much greater degree of warmth to religion in 
Scotland than would at first be supposed. But still there 
is after all, a coldness, a meagreness and inefficiency, 
compared with the life, and enterprise and heat of Ameri- 
can revivals. I can only say in conclusion, that we should 
esteem ourselves, as Christians, most happy, that we live 
in such a country as America; as parents, or brothers, 
or friends, we should rejoice that such holy influences 
are brought to bear on those we love. That we live in 
an age when so many busy expedients are put into ope- 
ration, should render us grateful; that we live in a land 
where a thousand motives are alluring us to well-doing, 
and our families and our friends to follow us, should ren- 
der us still more so. 

Saturday. Walked with several ladies towards Dud- 
dingston Loch, the merriest scene in Scotland. The day 
was damp and rather misty, but we decided to prosecute 
our enterprise ; the streets leading to it were crowded 
with gentlemen and ladies, approaching or returning 
from the glassy field. On inquiry, we found that it 
was covered with water : however we chose to walk part 
way, at least, as the gravel walks were not very damp and 



JOURNAL. 175 

the groups of passers by were quite interesting. Parties of 
young gentlemen with their flashing dashy skates, small 
parties of older and graver personages, their skates 
fixed with more antique garnish, boys laughing and 
joking, many genteelly, indeed, elegantly dressed ; 
whilst with these parties, or with gentlemen without 
skates, came group after group, a perfect stream of beauty 
and elegance ; for this is a scene peculiarly attractive to 
the ladies of Edinburgh. We did not go as far as the lake, 
for it began to rain ; how T ever, standing at the bottom 
of Salisbury crags w 7 e had a fine view of the country, 
still deeply green ; which renders it, diversified as it is, 
by hill and dale, and scattered over with villages, castles, 
and farm houses, a charming scene. In returning 
we passed by Jeannie Deans' house, on St Leonard's, 
which almost filled my eyes w r ith tears. The view ot 
Calton hill and the castle, was very bold and striking 
from this point. Returned and spent the evening at 
home most pleasantly alone. O ! solitude, how sweet 
are thy shades, when we have long gazed upon the 
blazing light of day, whirled in its deafening crowd, and 
lived with the mind much occupied on other things ; how 
pleasant to go with earnest and deep searchings into the 
chambers of the soul to disrobe and discipline, and lead 
it to the true fountain of light, and purity, and joy. 
Sunday. In the morning went to the high church, to 

hear Dr , one of the most celebrated preachers 

of Edinburgh. As it was rather too early I had an oppor- 
tunity to examine the part of the church which he occu- 
pies. It is strictly Gothic. The large pointed arched 
windows of the lower part of the building, the more 
contracted ones in the upper and narrower part, with 
their heavy frames, the massive pillars with their heavy 
mouldings, the height of the building, its gilding insig- 



176 JOURNAL. 

nia, its suspended crown, its dim and broken light, all 
conspire to produce quite a serious impression on the 
mind. These do not fail to deepen, as the remembrance 
of its history presses home with all that additional force, 
which locality gives, even in trifling incidents, with all 
that sublimity, which it lends to such events as are con- 
nected with this famous building. Just before the cler- 
gyman entered the desk the sceptre and sword of state 
were brought in, by two officers, and placed in the two 
pews opposite me. Immediately after this the Lord 
Provost, with four gentlemen in red gowns, and six in 
black, were ushered in, the former in the first pew, 
where the sceptre had been placed, the other in that 
where the sword of state had been fixed. Shortly after 
the clergyman entered ; he was a man of much dignity 
of bearing, and exhibited elegance in the selection of 
his language. 

In the afternoon went to hear Mr B. He preach- 
ed a very excellent evangelical sermon. Mr B. is 
young, but he ranks very high in Edinburgh, for his 
talents as a powerful writer and original preacher. He 
has black hair, a straight and well marked forehead, 
prominent but regular nose ; a mouth, which though not 
large, moves as he speaks his whole face, drawing it into 
a thousand lines. In the pulpit he is by no means grace- 
ful. He reads his sermon, having one hand much of the 
time, under the bible ; as he becomes interested, he 
bends and turns his body in every direction, not chang- 
ing however the position of his right hand, whilst the 
left is brought up to the other side of the bible, which 
rendered his manner rather constrained. His sermon, 
however, was from the heart, and his ow r n deep feeling 
seemed to reach through the house. 



JOURNAL. 



177 



"Visited the Royal Institution, to which a gentleman 
politely procured me a ticket — only one room open to- 
day — where stood a very large full-length portrait of 
George IV. in a highland dress, to be placed in the 
palace of Holyrood. It is a production of Sir David 
Wilkie. I do not consider it a piece of much merit. 
The coloring is not distinct, and the shading is in many 
respects faulty; particularly from the left knee down- 
ward. The features are not so strong as those fixed on 
the living bronze by the illustrious Chantrey, but they are 
more intellectual. Walked home round Calton hill. 
This is, at least by night, one of the most sublime scenes 
in Edinburgh. Slowly you leave Prince Street, with its 
brilliant line of lights, behind ; now the Calton hill, with 
its magnificent school, and proud monuments, lifts itself 
up on the one side — the stern prison frowns darkly with 
its high towers and turrets on the other. Now the Salis- 
bury crags and Arthur's Seat, stand abruptly before you 
on the right, in black shade, while on the left, light after 
light pours its melting mellow rays on the gently curving 
terrace. Beneath, between the terrace and the hills, 
seen in the dim gulf below, are roofs and steeples, blazing 
furnaces, and lighted windows. Afar off on the right, 
terminated the hills. Leith, with its splendid rows of 
lamps, blazing in regular beauty, spreads off on the 
distant left ; whilst the deep and broad waters of the 
Frith, with its solitary beacon, expands in front. The 
whole scene is most striking and picturesque. 

Saturday. Visited Mr Woods' Sessional school. The 
system is in part monitorial. The scholars, about five 
hundred in number, are divided into six or seven classes; 
these form in squares from one end of the room to the 
other ; whilst the preceptor is in one class, the monitors 
are drilling the others. The teacher enters the first class, 



178 JOURNAL. 

which is the youngest, where they read simple syllables. 
They then spell the words which they have read, after 
which they define them. He then proceeds to another 
and higher class, where he pursues the same course. 
The answer must be very prompt, or another gives it ; 
and he flies from one to another very hastily, to keep 
up a general attention. The words are here of a harder 
kind, and they are made to stand in every variety of 
light and shade. The next class was examined in the 
Old Testament ; the next in arithmetic. The readiness 
with which they would reply in pounds, shillings and 
pence, was surprising. After this, they read an account 
of the plague in London, of 1665, and having closed the 
book, several were called upon, who gave a most excellent 
abstract of it. They were then called on to define the 
words of which the writer had made use — to show r what 
words proceeded from the same root ; and this they did 
with a volubility almost inconceivable, considering their 
years and condition, and which would have led me to ima- 
gine they had been perfectly drilled in each particular pas- 
sage, had it not been selected by one of the visitors out of a 
work of considerable size, and the words chosen by any 
gentleman who desired to do so. One little fellow espe- 
cially excited my attention. He appeared to be the 
oracle of the school. He was a blind boy. He was as 
sensitive as the delicate sensitive plant. The questions 
proposed to him were answered with a propriety that 
really astonished me, though I confess, that as he seemed 
to quiver in every limb from extreme nervous irritability, 
I was filled also with feelings of commiseration. His 
mind seemed like a bird seen through the wires of its 
cage, struggling to get free. 

As I walked up to Calton hill, I had a fine view 
of the stern prison beneath, and of the gay throng 



JOURNAL. 179 

promenading the elegant walks of Prince Street. Here 
were the highly dressed fashionables of Edinburgh, the 
dashing belles, the stately officers, with their varied 
uniform ; the stern soldier. Here a whiskered hussar 
with his clanging spurs and heavy steel sheathed long 
sword ; here an erect orderly sergeant ; here a kilted 
highlander, with his raven plumes, or high black cap ; 
here a thoughtful merchant, bustling through the crowd ; 
whilst here a lady, somewhat past the prime, picks her 
way choicely, as her white muff is now edged this way, 
now that ; here hurries some advocate's clerk ; here 
congregate the bargaining sons of Levi ; here hasten the 
playful children, with satchels strapped to their shoulders, 
noisy from school ; while in the street a perfect tide of 
carts, coaches, gigs, and carriages, horsemen and adver- 
tisement bearers, pour with inconstant and diverse 
speed. 

Sunday, January 16. In the morning went to hear 
Mr C. a distinguished clergyman of the Episcopal order. 
He did not officiate that morning, but my mind was 
refreshed, as association brought up some of those holy 
Episcopalians, who in my own dear native land, so adorn 
the doctrines of the Saviour, in all things. I heard, how- 
ever, a very good missionary sermon. But even many of 
the best Christians do not seem to put that point to their 
sermons which I like ; however, perhaps my heart is 
harder, and less apt to apply sacred truth to itself, than 
that of most men ; perhaps the Scotch need less than 
we, of personal application, — but I fear after all, that 
education and habit, leads them to fail in this point ; but 
better times draw on. 

Monday, Jan. 17. Attended classes. Visited Mr Lyme^, 
one of the most eminent artists. Was much pleas.- 
ed with his room. His productions discover firmness an<£ 



180 



JOURNAL. 



accuracy of coloring both in costume and faces, truth in 
resemblance, finish in execution. He is a portrait paint- 
er, and in his collection has the portraits of many noble- 
men and distinguished citizens. In the evening went 
to a small party at Mr O.'s. There was quite an 
agreeable though not numerous company. Conversation 
and music of all kinds abounded. Mrs Huntington was 
mentioned as is very usual with high admiration. 
At about ten we were ushered into another room 
where a table was amply covered with the delicacies of 
the season. At the supper table the Scotch show forth 
to advantage ; such generosity and frankness, without 
intrusiveness ; such cheerfulness without dissipation, or 
questionable merriment ; their polite attentions, pleasant 
conversation, and fine songs ; all these with that salu- 
tary restraint and sacred lustre, which the supplicated 
blessing gives to such a scene, renders it delightful in its 
actual enjoyment, sweet in its reflections. 

Tuesday, Jan. 18. Attended classes. Had a visit from 
Dr Black, who brought a proof sheet of an article which I 
gave him on Andover. Gave him an account of the 
society of Inquiry of Andover. In the evening met a 
small but pleasant party at Mrs N.'s. Conversed prin- 
cipally on " the state of religion in America." Return- 
ing had a fine view of Leith, the Frith, and the bold 
brow of Calton. Over the whole scene studded with a 
thousand lamps, the pale moon-beams fell most tran- 
quilly. 

Wednesday. Called at Oliphant's book store ; was 
ushered into the sanctum, where a few literati or blue 
stockings are usually to be found admiring the volume 
hot from the press, before it is made to shine in the 
firmament, where vulgar eyes can reach it ; catching a 
telescopic view, as of some comet, before it has reached 



JOURNAL. 181 

the sphere of unaided vision. Annuals, new poems, 
novels, sermons, plates, magazines and newspapers, grace 
his table, irradiated by the lustre of many a bright eye. 
In the afternoon dined in company with Mr Aikman, 
Dr Patterson, and Mr Swan a gentleman who has been 
engaged as a Missionary thirteen years in Liberia, and 
who intends shortly to return to that country, to his inter- 
esting duties. He is a pleasant, sensible man ; his hair 
is dark brown ; his forehead well formed and rather 
high ; his features regular ; his voice is finely toned ; his 
smile chastened ; his whole address bland and agreeable. 
Returned home and wrote a few pages on the Theologi- 
cal Institution, Andover, for Dr Black ; and part of a 
letter to my dear friends, on the other side of the 
Atlantic. 



16 



CHAPTER VIII. 



Ireland — Catholicism — Butler — Craig Leith Quarry — Rev. Mr Craig 

— Episcopal Church — Arthur's Seat — Parliament House — Liberton 

— Ordination — Catholic Church — St George's Church — Mr Harvey 
the Artist — The Prison — Royal Museum-— Muschat's Cairn. 

Thursday. Breakfasted with Dr Chalmers. Found 
a few other gentlemen there, among whom was Mr 

C , a gentleman of the church, who has been a 

missionary in Ireland. He is esteemed quite an enthusi- 
ast, and perhaps there is ground for it. He imagines 
that he has struck out a new plan, — I believe others do 
not precisely comprehend; or at least repose much confi- 
dence in it, — which would in a short time protestantize 
this catholic dominion. He brought it, or evidently wish- 
ed to bring it, on the tapis, but I could only gather thus 
much : that Ireland is in a dreadful state ; that the 
crisis is rapidly approaching, when a great and healing 
application must be made, or it will be torn with awful 
convulsions. Seven millions of its inhabitants are 
Catholics ; they think, and are determined to hold the 
Pope supreme. Tithes they will not endure ; the land 
of the church they will insist on being equally divided 
with that of Rome. He is for sending a vast body of 
missionaries through the land, to gain the affection and con- 
fidence of the people, and thus lead them to listen to the 
gospel, and decide for themselves. The Doctor spoke of 



JOURNAL; 183 

Butler again, in terms of admiration. I remarked that 
we employed it in our literary institutions as a text book, 
I then spoke of his views of the use to be made of the 
arguments, as he had stated them in the lecture room, as 
very striking and just in my opinion; making men the 
pillars to support the vestibule ; or like the high and 
grand gateway and stern arches leading up to an impregna- 
ble citadel, impressing and overawing the mind and prepar- 
ing it to look on bulwarks more massive and defensible. 
Mr B. and myself decided to walk to Craig Leith 
Quarry, about two miles out of the city. The day was 
delightful, for though it is the nineteenth of January, 
there has yet been nothing like our winter. The grass 
is still green, the fields seem to be in a cultivated state ; 
the air is mild, and nothing indicates even the approach of 
winter but the leafless trees. As we left the city behind, 
the view gradually increased in expansiveness and 
beauty, until we arrived at the Quarry ; from this ele- 
vated spot, you command a scene of exquisite beauty. 
On the right are the famous Pentland hills, with their 
bold outline sweeping along the horizon. At their ter- 
mination, in front, the fine squares of the city commence, 
here and there pointed by some monumental furnace- 
pipe, or tapering steeple. A little further on, the dark 
gray castle, rising on its massy rock, emerges from the 
line of roofs and chimneys ; at once the ornament and 
defence of the city of palaces. Beneath, and sweeping 
around it, and from its side extending off to the left, are 
seen line after line of houses ; while the domes and 
spires scattered over the whole, give dignity and variety 
to the less conspicuous habitations of men. Further still 
to the left, rising abruptly from the ridgy roofs around, 
stands Calton hill. Away to its left, long ranges of ele- 
gant buildings stretch down to the silver waters of the 



184 JOURNAL. 

Frith ; on this side skirting a beautiful plain studded with 
trees and fine houses ; on the other, drawn like a silver 
cord around the base of the dark hills of Fife. 

Friday, Jan. 21. Took tea with the Rev. Mr G — . 
Conversed with a lady whom I knew not, about various 
matters relating to the church, and state of religion in 
Scotland. It is quite unusual to introduce in Edinburgh. 
You are sometimes announced by the servants, sometimes 
not ; after which you enter, and the conversation is per- 
fectly free. If you converse, however, with a lady to- 
night, to whom you have not been introduced, (for if a 
mutual friend comes by, perhaps he will introduce you 
to the very lady you are conversing with, if he supposes 
that you have not already been presented,) and meet her 
tomorrow, you must not presume to recognise her, 
unless she first takes notice of you, which confirms the 
acquaintance of accident. 

Sunday, Jan. 23. In the morning went to hear Mr 
Craig of the Episcopal church. Received great pleasure 
in mingling with the " great congregation " in the solemn 
responses of confession and entreaty to the Majesty on 
High. When these services are conducted in a solemn 
manner, I do not know anything more impressive, at 
least to one who imbibes the spirit of them ; but ah ! too 
many, I fear, render them an empty, useless form. Mr 
C. selected as his text that interesting subject from the 
Psalms, "My soul cleaveth to the dust," which he treat- 
ed in a very plain and beautiful manner. His voice is 
sweet, his emphasis very appropriate, his pronunciation 
pure and distinct. His language is chaste, his style ele- 
gant and classical. His piety and zeal seemed unaffect- 
ed and deep ; his earnestness with sinners, whilst regu- 
lated by his native dignity and elegance, was touching in 
the extreme. I was much profited by the discourse as 



JOURNAL. 185 

well as the whole service. May God bless such faithful 
ministrations everywhere. In the afternoon, heard Dr 

, of the High Church. His sermon was from the 

first Epistle to Peter; the comprehensive and soul-stir- 
ring passage ending with the sublime declaration " which 
things the angels desire to look into/' His sermon was 
treated in a critical, rather uninteresting manner, which 
made even my unfeeling heart burn with honest desire 
to throw into it a living fire. How Paul would have 
preached that subject into the hearts of corrupt and fro- 
zen mortals. These cold dogmas give me a new relish 
for the warmth of New England divinity. Blessed be 
God, who placed my lot in so pleasant a heritage ! 

Monday, Jan. 24. It is strange how fine the weather 
continues to be ; though so late in the season, it is still 
mild as October; the grass is quite green; turnips, and 
greens of that description, appear to be in a forward state 
of cultivation. There have been but two falls of snow ; 
the one early in November, which soon melted away ; the 
other early in January, which had melted even from the 
roofs by noon. The skating pond at Duddingston has 
been but once frozen. However, I understand that soon 
very severe weather may be looked for. 

Tuesday, Jan. 25. Day clear, but more blustering 
than any that we have had this season. Much like one 
of our March days. Attended classes. Dr Chalmers 
was peculiarly eloquent this forenoon ; never have I seen 
him more so. He was on the Doctrine of Necessity. 
He passed a very beautiful eulogium on Jonathan Ed- 
wards, the great champion of the system. As the day 
was clear, I determined to scale the rocky heights of 
Arthur's Seat, and with this intention started off about 
twelve. On my way I passed the house of Jeannie Deaus, 
a little piece of which I bore off as a token of my visit, 
16* 



186 JOURNAL. 

as well as some grass growing under the window. The 
house is small, built of stone and mortar; at one side, 
connected with it, are a few other houses, of a similar 
kind. It commands a fine view of the King's Park, 
Salisbury crags, and Arthur's Seat. Owing to the wind, 
the ascent to Arthur's Seat was very difficult. Weary 
and almost exhausted, now, I would sit down to rest, and 
again, as the wind came roaring by, I would be forced 
to lie prostrate on the hill side, or take the chance of be- 
ing blown down some threatening precipice. I succeed- 
ed after a long and tedious struggle in attaining the 
highest part of that rocky cone. From it, the view was 
truly magnificent. Everything entered into it that con- 
duces to vary and beautify a landscape. The Frith of 
Forth, with its far-spreading waters, lay to the east. On 
the west and south, extended a green and diversified 
country, dotted with villages, churches, and country 
seats ; over this, at the very base of the crags, runs with 
all its moving cars, a fine rail-way. The north is filled 
up by the city, from the midst of which, with gloomy 
grandeur, the castle rises on the one side ; while on the 
other, graced with many a Grecian pile, with airy beau- 
ty, as if borne from a warmer clime to be its bride, stands 
Calton hill. I gazed for some time with unspeakable 
delight on the enchanting scene. Remembered to pluck 
some grass from its rocky summit, to be a token of my 
visit, if God permits, in a distant land. 

Dined with Mr B. Was feasted with the sight 
of an American paper. There was an account in 
it of a very interesting revival in Jefferson county, 
New York, in the very church where he had offici- 
ated. This brought home most freshly to his mind, 
while it was not less forcibly suggested to mine, by 
a paragraph of a few lines, respecting the election of 



JOURNAL. 187 

Mayor in Boston. We became quite national as we ran 
over its columns, and good reason there was for it, for it 
was full of evidence of the religion, prosperity and hap- 
piness of the land. How different from Europe ! 

Wednesday. Walked up to the Parliament house. 
The courts were not sitting, however, at that time ; as 
the lords were called away on special business. The 
outer house was quite crowded with loungers, hangers on 
of court, and lawyers. The whole scene was quite a cu- 
rious one. The outer Parliament house is a large and 
very high hall. It receives an antique air from the curi- 
ously arranged and brazen pointed beams which stud, as 
with a thousand stars, the dark canopy above. Its top is 
a fine specimen of the old Norman style. At one end 
of the hall are two doors, through both of which a 
stream of life is continually flowing. Beside these, and 
making a right angle with them, stands the noble mar- 
ble statue of Lord Melville. On one side of the hall 
to which these doors conduct, are two doors also, the one 
leading from the anteroom, which communicates with the 
square, and which forms the great avenue to this seat of 
justice. The other, opens into one of the courts of 
law. On this side there are likewise, occupying retired 
niches, two tables surrounded with a semicircular bar, 
where a number of clerks, with large books and many 
papers, appeared to be very busy. The design of these 
places, and the duties of these clerks, I had no means of 
learning. On the other side of the hall, opposite to the 
one before mentioned, stands another hall of justice. On 
this side are two fire places, and benches arranged against 
the wall, where the wags and idlers about court, are 
cracking their jokes and amusing one another. The end 
of the hall opposite Lord Melville, has a very large win- 
dow of stained glass, which admits a soft and mellow 



183 JOURNAL. 

light. Beneath this window is a large square, opening 
through which-are seen two other courts, partly hidden 
by the folds of drapery, which are placed before them to 
soften the sounds of the outer hall. 

When I entered, I found myself in the midst of a most 
respectable crowd of loungers. Here were gentlemen of 
leisure, of frank and manly mein, discussing the various 
topics of the day ; here busy clerks, loaded with many a 
brief; here the little groups of wits; here the demure, 
black-gowned barristers, in their powdered, stiff-curled 
wigs, moving with sober face and solemn step ; with here 
and there an anxious client ; the whole presenting all the 
diversities of light and shade, the checks and balances, 
of an active, thinking, and refined community. 

Thursday. Dr Dickson called upon me according 
to engagement, and we walked in company to the beauti- 
ful church at Liberton, where Mr Purdie, a worthy 
young gentleman, and one of warm piety, was to be or- 
dained by the presbytery. The services were similar to 
those adopted in New England. They were conducted in 
a solemn and interesting manner. The sermon was by 
Rev. Mr Henderson ; it was faithful and earnest. The 
appearance of the congregation was decent, attentive, and 
to me, impressive and interesting. One custom which I 
now witnessed for the first time, had great moral beauty 
in it to my mind. After the services, the new pastor, 
attended by Dr D., went out to the door to shake hands 
with the members of his church ; and a more interesting 
sight I have scarce ever witnessed. The Scotch peas- 
antry show to great advantage at the kirk door. They 
were all neatly clad, and had an air of honesty and man- 
liness about them, very prepossessing. The interchange 
of kindness between the pastor and his flock was quite 
touching. They were now commencing an acquaintance 



JOURNAL. 189 

which would bring them frequently together, in the ten- 
derest, the most momentous, and solemn relations, in 
which man and man can stand to each other. His hand 
was clasped, and his head blessed by those, before whom 
hewould declares the oracles of God — to whom he would 
dispense the broken body of Christ — whom he would 
unite in marriage — whose children he would sprinkle at 
the baptismal font — whose last rites on earth he would 
perform. By those, who in heaven would acquit or con- 
demn him — would meet him as now, with kindness and 
joy, or utterly turn from him. After this interesting 
scene, we walked to the manse, where a numerous party 
were invited to dine. The health of the pastor and others 
were drank and replied to in a very proper manner. In 
answer to a complimentary sentiment, I w r as called upon 
to say a few words in return. They were these : " Re- 
spected sir — in expressing to you my deep sense of obliga- 
tion for the very undeserved, but polite mention made of 
my name ; permit me also to speak of the high pleasure I 
experienced in beholding the solemn services of the morn- 
ing. Most deeply did I feel them, and I am sure that the 
simple, but sacred and imposing solemnities must have 
inspired every breast with the same feeling, ( that God, 
who delighteth not in sacrifices and burnt offerings,' who 
is not to be dazzled by pomp, or allured by show, that 
God was there ! " I then spoke of the touching inter- 
change of kindness which I had witnessed at the church 
door, and remarked, that while such solemnity pervaded 
the sanctuary, and such a spirit of love dwelt around it — 
while the congregation were thus faithfully, the pastor 
thus kindly addressed by each other, Scotland would 
continue to be regarded by the nations, what she ever 
had been, " an honor to the earth." Before I returned 
to the city, a great change had taken place in the weather. 



190 JOURNAL. 

The morning was very pleasant, as mild as October ; 
now, three or four inches of snow covered the ground, and 
many flakes floated in the air. Lord H. with Mr M. and 
myself, started off together to walk into the city ; but 
his Lordship soon decided to move faster than we were 
disposed to, so he commenced a brisk trot, while we more 
leisurely picked our way thither. 

Sabbath. In the morning Mr B. and myself deter- 
mined, as the cholera had reached Edinburgh, and a safer 
opportunity might not be afforded us if we deferred it 
longer, to go to the Catholic church. The audience was 
much more respectable than I had expected. There 
was a very large number of sensible and gentlemanly 
persons present. The general style and ornaments of 
the building were as usual, imposing. Over the altar 
was a very fine painting, representing Christ after he 
was taken from the cross. The pale and nerveless 
body of the Saviour, and the faces of the two Mary's 
were extremely well executed. From a dark recess in 
the gallery, the large and fine organ poured forth the 
richest and softest notes I ever heard. The services were 
in Latin ; but these were recited so rapidly that 1 could 
scarce catch a word. The form was the same as at the 
church in Boston. The prayers were repeated by a 
priest at the altar, while the apostles, or boys in white 
robes, occasionally gave something like responses. After 
these services were concluded, another priest entered the 
pulpit. Having read two extracts from the New Testa- 
ment, he gave a discourse on " Love thy neighbor." 
His name was McPherson. He had an open and ingen- 
uous face : he extemporized his discourse, which was 
plain and popular in its style. His dress, which was 
white, ornamented with flowers and a splendid cross of 
gold and embroidered work, was very rich. The ex-king 



JOURNAL. 191 

of France unfortunately was not present, nor any of his 
suite, so that his silken canopy was the only intimation 
that his royal presence ever graced the church. The 
altar of this sanctuary was magnificently decorated : 
upon it many wax lights were burning. 

In the evening we proceeded to St George's church. 
This is one of the largest and most costly churches in 
the city. But I do not admire its architecture much. It 
has four pillars in front, and rising from the centre of the 
roof, is a very large cupola, similar to that of the Boston 
State House. When you enter the building and see that 
this is not supported by columns within, you naturally 
experience quite a sense of insecurity. The inside of 
the church is neater than the interior of churches gene- 
rally in Edinburgh, but inferior, both in taste and elegance, 
to those of Boston. The preacher's sermon was really a 
very fine piece of composition ; doing justice to the subject 
and himself. His language was very graphic, his figures 
imposing and magnificent. The whole was impregnated 
with a fine christian spirit; without which, a sermon, 
however beautiful in composition, is the most meagre 
and ill-shaped of all things born in the mind of man. 

Tuesday. Went, by particular invitation, to a Temper- 
ance association which was to meet at the George Street 
assembly rooms. Had the honor of sitting with the 
distinguished gentlemen of the committee, many of whom 
I had already met, and to others of whom I was intro- 
duced. The son-in-law of , a very wealthy gentle- 
man, was in the chair. Three gentlemen spoke ; one a 
great landholder, and two clergymen of the Establishment. 
One of them, Mr Simpson, really spoke in a most forcible 
and admirable manner. 

Tuesday Evening. I had the delightful satisfaction of 
receiving a letter from home. It came to me like a bles- 



192 JOURNAL. 

sed messenger of joy, to say that all were in life, and 
happy at home — all preserved from the disease by which 
so many suffered. God be praised for his astonishing 
and undeserved mercy to me and those whom I love. 
Oh ! that my gratitude bore any degree of correspond- 
ence to the extent of my obligation. Surely I will 
rejoice in him. 

Saturday, Feb. 4. Called on Mr Harvey, a distin- 
guished artist of Edinburgh. He was then employed on 
a very fine piece, " Examination of a Village School. " 
Another, the only other, now in his possession, was a 
"Baptism among the Hills," introducing the Covenant- 
ers. The conception and execution of this does Mr 
Harvey great honor. A father is presenting his babe to 
a venerable and dignified clergyman, whose gray locks 
float loosely over a manly, and most benevolent face. 
Beside the husband, stands his pale and delicate spouse, 
one of the most interesting faces in the group ; a sweet 
little child, with a placid but lovely countenance, at her 
side, stands gazing on the ceremony. Near them is an- 
other group, but these figures being of a more lively 
cast, make a fine contrast with the other. Seated or 
standing around are many firm and strong featured men, 
and many an earnest female face devoutly turned to- 
wards the holy man ; while here and there, features 
stern and dark, yet subdued by the pleasing and sacred 
scene, with the iron spear and heavy broadsword, mark 
sufficiently well the rude character of the times. Be- 
hind, rise the towering misty hills, secluding and guard- 
ing the brave and pious worshippers, forming a grand 
and imposing temple. 

Dined with Mr Gray, Argyle Square. Discussed the 
temperance question, and especially a most unworthy 
work against temperance societies by a clergyman, which 



JOURNAL. 193 

had quite staggered this most excellent and kindly Chris- 
tian. The cholera was also a prominent subject of 
regard. This begins to cast quite a gloom over the face 
of society. 

Monday. Visited the prison. This is a very fine 
building, of a castellated appearance, in Waterloo place, 
just under the brow of Calton hill. The street is a 
beautiful one ; the Regent bridge is a splendid structure. 
This was not, as I imagined, the receptacle of condemn- 
ed prisoners, but only of persons waiting for trial ; rogues, 
thieves, housebreakers, &c. However, I did not alto- 
gether like what I saw and heard. 1st. The prisoners 
frequently remained here four or five months before 
trial. 2d. They had no employment while here confin- 
ed. 3d. They were permitted to meet together in a 
public room during all hours of the day, vagabonds and 
wretches of every description. 4th. Three or four 
at least, are thrown into one cell for the night. Every- 
thing however was neat and clean. The food was healthy 
and good. In the morning and evening, milk porridge ; at 
noon meat or broth. They had a chaplain, but though 
he makes some visits in the week, he has no daily prayers, 
and but one service on the Sabbath. 

Tuesday. Went with a party of ladies to view the 
royal museum of antiquities. The building is a fine 
Grecian design, built at the foot of the mound. In the 
lower part of the building is a hall where some old paint- 
ings are now exhibited, and two other rooms, where are 
some cases of valuable books, and some good portraits of 
distinguished characters. Amongst these, was one of 
Sir Walter Scott, but I should not say a correct likeness. 
Above these are other rooms, into two of w r hich we were 
admitted. In one of these, a long gallery, were arrang- 
ed, without much regard to age or country, a considera. 
17 



194 JOURNAL. 

ble variety of weapons and antiquities of different de- 
scriptions. I was most gratified with the pulpit of John 
Knox, which was then in its full glory. Here was also 
the famous guillotine, invented by Morton, and by which 
he himself, the Duke of Montrose, the Earl of Argyle, 
and others were executed. Here were swords and 
spears that had glanced over many a scaffold, or flashed 
in many a field. Amongst other interesting objects was 
a banner torn and soiled, on which was embroidered in 
golden letters, "Covenants, Religion of Kingdoms." 
From this place we walked through the gay crowd of 
Prince Street to Calton hill. The day was so pleasant, 
that though our walk had already been long, we decided 
to visit Muschat Cairn and Anthony's Chapel before our 
return. These, as everybody knows, who has read the 
Heart of Mid Lothian, are situated on the northern side of 
the Salisbury Crags. Nothing can be more solitary than 
their situation on the wild hill side, with savage rocks 
and lonely dells around. The bare and heavy walls 
of the shattered chapel, with the blue heavens seen 
on either side through its unprotected windows, or 
shivered wall, the ruins that lay around, and the dark and 
silent hills that shut it in, all unite to yield a very strik- 
ing contrast to the beautiful and active city from which 
you have just come ; and this contrast pressing more 
and more into the regions which lie most retired in the 
mind, at length gains a full control of the imagination ; 
until the spirit of solitude completely mastering the re- 
flective powers of the soul, the vivid and real impressions 
just before made by the splendors of the city, play upon 
the recollection, not like the objects of a real scene, but 
like the deep and lively images of a past but brilliant 
dream. 

Thursday, Feb, 9. As pleasant as the most delight- 



JOURNAL. 195 

fill of our spring days. This was very properly set 
apart as a day for national fast. How deeply do my 
sins, as well as the sins of the nation, and the world, call 
for such an expression of contrition. How humbling is a 
retrospect of my life. How many privileges entirely neg- 
lected, how many shamefully abused. Daily do I see and 
feel more and more, how utterly dependent am I upon the 
Spirit of all Grace, not only to teach me duty, but to en- 
liven and encourage my heart to its performance. Tru- 
ly, I desire that that " Divine Spirit " may be henceforth 
my sweetest and most constant companion ; that He may 
create in my soul the image of Christ ; that He may lead 
every thought into captivity and obedience to him. 
Was greatly encouraged and revived this day by reading 
of the glorious activity in well doing, of the young men 
of America, in the pages of the New York Observer. 



CHAPTER IX. 

[imperfect Knowledge of America abroad — Professor Stuart — Scotch 
Ladies — Craigmiller Castle — St George's Church — Infant School — 
Dr Chalmers « — Harvey — Anecdote — St Paul's — Lecture Room. 

I have often remarked on the ignorance of the Euro- 
pean nations, and of the Scotch in particular, of all that 
relates to America. They are but too apt to class us 
with the hordes of half civilized people that dwell 
among the forests and seclusions of the earth. This is 
a summary mode of treating us, and doubtless saves 
them no little jealousy. For the Scotch cannot bear 
rivalship. However, now and then some little fact starts 
up before their eyes ; some troublesome paragraph about 
our rail-roads, steamboats, canals or commerce ; or some 
author like Irving, Cooper or Stuart crosses their track 
to fill them with great surprise. But if they wince at 
these unexpected notices, they soon stand up on their 
defence again, and like the Egyptians after the passing 
off of each successive plague, renew their old ideas and 
hostilities. Among those, who cast too broad and too 
dark a shade over the lf Island of the Ocean, " from the 
transatlantic coast, is Professor Stuart. Persons here 
are too sagacious, however, not to perceive that his 
scholarship has too high claims to be overlooked. This 
therefore they do not quite attempt. They even speak 
of him, often, with much praise. But when you come 



JOURNAL. 197 

to sound them well, then their praise comes with many 
limitations. For instance a young clergyman was at my 
room a few nights since, and the conversation fell natur- 
ally upon professional education in America. I alluded 
to Professor Stuart. He remarked that he entertained a 
high opinion of him ; but said he "Mr Stuart has too 
much the air of a pedant ; he allows too great deference 
to the Germans, too little to the English ; and disowns 
' Owen ' as a great authority ; " and. he further remarked, 
M when I came to his opinion of a man, with whom he 
cannot be brought into comparison, I was so indignant 
that I threw the book across the room with disgust. 5 ' 
His great objection was, that there was so little spiritu- 
ality in the work — I could not make him understand 
that it was written for scholars, to aid them in opening to 
their own search the spirituality of the bible. 

Tuesday. In the evening met a small party at 
Mr G.'s. Perhaps fifteen ladies and as many gentlemen. 
Thought the ladies strikingly plain, when compared with 
those of America. The Scotch ladies are too tall, their 
features too strong and fixed, and their motions constrain- 
ed. There is not that gracefulness of person, variety of 
expression, and liveliness of thought that distinguish 
our own. But these remarks by no means apply to all ; 
on the contrary they admit of many interesting excep- 
tions, amongst my personal friends. Met one of the 
Polish exiles there, a very pleasant young man ; he sang 
one of his national airs. It was of a melancholy kind, 
and some parts were very touching. One or two French 
and Italian pieces were sung during the evening. 

Saturday. Visited Craigmiller castle. This desolate 

old ruin is beautifully situated, about three miles distant 

from Edinburgh, of which it commands a very good view. 

In feudal days it was a strongly fortified hold. Its black 

17* 



198 JOURNAL. 

and tottering walls might be brought to the ground, how- 
ever, at the present time, with a very small force. Indeed, 
I almost trembled, as I stood under its dilapidated towers. 
There is an outer wall, enclosing a square, with once 
formidable, but now weak and crumbling defences. 
Within this, but closed from vulgar scrutiny, is another 
square castle ; the corners of which are protected by 
round towers. The shattered walls, the irregular gables, 
and the roofless keep, rising sternly above the whole, 
give a cheerless and gloomy air to this ancient fortalice, 
once the dwelling place of princes. But it receives an 
additional interest from its having been a favorite resi- 
dence of the accomplished but unfortunate Mary. The 
day was cold and cloudy, but it was in keeping with the 
general character of the scene. Returned and spent the 
evening with Mr T . Had much profitable conver- 
sation with Mrs T., upon God's goodness in afflictions; 
and truly she has had an opportunity to learn it ; for as 
a mother, she has been called six times to mourn and 
find relief in God. Christianity has thrown a sweet 
charm over her mild but fine face, and given to her con- 
versation a refined and spiritual direction. It is indeed 
most reviving to meet feelings of such mould and fer- 
vency, amongst the cold, strange, and transient scenes of 
this apostate world. 

Sabbath. In the morning heard a lecture from my 
much esteemed and very kind friend, Dr D. It was upon 
the first chapter of John. The mode of his exposition 
was lucid and profitable. What a soul-touching doctrine 
does this blessed chapter involve. How humbling, yet 
how ennobling to humanity. God manifest in the flesh ! 
If there is anything which would give refinement, ardor, 
and enterprise to our Christians, certainly it is this. 
What motives does it bring to bear upon our understand- 



JOURNAL. 109 

ing, conscience, and heart. Here is love, not that God 
gave forgiveness to man, but that he gave his son for the 
forgiveness of man. 

St George's church is the centre of fashion in Edin- 
burgh. Here are assembled the grandees. It is built of 
a grayish freestone, much inferior in appearance to the 
fine granite, quarried near Boston. Its bold front has a 
portico, graced by six large Ionic columns. The edi- 
fice is surmounted by a high, and for the strength of 
the base, too heavy dome. However, this adds to the 
general magnificence of a distant view of the city. The 
interior falls far short of what might naturally be expected 
from the external ornaments of the building. The pulpit 
is an aw r kward and inelegant piece of mahogany work; 
the pews are made of pine, and the aisles are entirely 
uncarpeted. And yet this is considered one of their 
finest churches. I think that I may confidently assert 
that there are few of our city churches which do 
not display more taste and elegance — many far sur- 
pass it. 

Monday, Feb. 12. In the evening, took tea and supper 
with a small but very agreeable party at Dr D.'s. At ten, 
the hymn books and bibles were brought in for family 
prayers. This gives a noble character to the socialities 
of life. A hymn was read, and all united in making 
meet praise to the Author of all our temporal as well as 
spiritual blessings. A chapter of the bible, with a few 
appropriate remarks from some commentator, were then 
read ; after which the Doctor led in a humble yet grateful 
approach to the divine footstool. After the close of these 
interesting services, we were ushered to the room below, 
where was prepared an ample, but plain supper. Here 
we passed a very pleasant hour or two in conversation, 
anecdote, and song ; for the Scotch, with that generous 



200 JOURNAL. 

partiality for song which so distinguishes them, introduce 
it naturally and pleasantly on all occasions. The whole 
scene was a very interesting one, which will not be soon 
banished from my recollection. Especially do I love to 
behold the paternal, filial, and fraternal affection, and 
kindness which such a scene exhibits. 

Tuesday. Went with two of the daughters of Mrs 

G , to visit an infant school. There were about 

one hundred and forty children brought under the benev- 
olent influence of this kindly institution. My visit gave 
rise to some delightful reflections. What an age we 
live in ; what a multitude of christian motives are 
brought to bear upon the Tiearts of the rising generation. 
God be praised that the work of divine reformation and 
recovery is rapidly advancing. In the afternoon Mr B. 
dined with me and we enjoyed a refreshing christian con- 
versation in the evening. But alas ! my heart sinks 
when I think that the time draws near that I must part 
from this dear and talented brother in Christ. Perhaps 
never more to meet in this lower world ; solemn ! solemn 
thought ! Sweet and very precious have been the hours 
I have spent in his company, and bitter will be the hour 
of separation, but our affections should not cling too 
fondly to things below ; and surely I rejoice that we are 
both travellers toward a better country even a heavenly ; 
there shall our affection be complete, and without fear of 
change. 

Thursday. In company with Mr B. breakfasted with 
Dr Chalmers. Fortunately we found the Doctor and 
his family alone. He was reading a new work by the 
talented author of " The Natural History of Enthu- 
siasm," as we entered, called " Saturday Evening," of 
which he spoke in terms of the highest admiration, 
warmly recommending us to read it. The Doctor was 



JOURNAL. 201 

peculiarly bland and eloquent. He conversed upon the 
present religious state of America, and his earnest de- 
sire to visit it ; both to behold its splendid scenery, and 
to obtain a statistical account of its prosperity without 
an Establishment. He spoke also upon the propriety of 
endowing the literary institutions of our country more 
liberally, and securing them in some way to real talent; 
not that learning was not in itself respectable, but be- 
cause the weight of an overbearing wealth, and a degrad- 
ed public sentiment, bore unsustained learning down 
from its proper elevation. And so much was this the 
case that it could but ill keep its ground, unless it was 
fortified by some such subsidiary means. It might be a 
lamented necessity, but it certainly was a necessity. 
We in speaking of some of his prefaces to various works 
earnestly recommended him to publish an edition of Butler 
with one, as a most desirable thing especially in Ameri- 
ca, where it was very generally read. As I walked with 
the Doctor to the university he gave me some idea of his 
views of inspiration. He thinks, that under a guarding 
superintendence, the writers were left, at least in places, to 
select their own language. That so interwoven is the 
direct supernatural and natural influence employed, that 
we cannot make a distinction. 

Tuesday, Feb. 21. Called upon Harvey, the eminent 
artist. Had the pleasure of seeing the fine piece which he 
has just completed, " The Village Examination." Around 
the room, are some excellent studies of Scotch character, 
wise, deliberate, firm, manly and honest countenances ; 
yet exhibiting an infinite variety, in their expression and 
tone of feeling. He had an unfinished piece before him 
when I entered. An old shepherd on a high and 
beetling crag, looking down upon the agitated sea, break- 
ing round its base. The old weather-beaten man came 



202 JOURNAL. 

in, who was sitting as an original for it, while I was 
there. Long locks of iron-gray hair fell parted on 
either side of his broad and wrinkled forehead. Heavy 
eye-brows shaded the dark gray eyes beneath. A short 
frock coat, made of a kind of velveteen, with short 
breeches, and long gaiters of the same, completed his 
dress. This is the usual dress of the crowds of " cad- 
dies" and laborers whom you will encounter in every 
direction in Edinburgh. Such were the features and 
guise of the old man. 

I had some interesting conversation with Mr H. on 
the philosophy of conception, as it relates to the produc- 
tion of the grand and complicated works of genius. Re- 
quested him to give me the history of his mind in relation 
to the celebrated piece, by which he attracted public ad- 
miration and praise, "The Covenanters." The first 
idea he had of it, was while he was once in the country, 
at a preaching in a barn. The nature of the subject, 
and one or two striking heads, made a favorable impres- 
sion on his mind. After some time he drew a design of 
the thing — he then decided that the open air would be 
more favorable for effect; then that the overshadowing 
hills would give an additional interest; then that history 
might lend it a charm ; the days of the Covenant were 
naturally suggested to his mind, " and these silent and 
long cherished contemplations," said he, " terminated in 
the production that first rendered me at all known as an 
artist — excuse my vanity;'' and a blush mantled on 
his cheek. Then turning to the fire-place, he handed 
me a small piece of paper soiled with many a blot, 
on which rudely scratched with ink, was an almost 
shapeless figure, he observed, " You have regarded the 
piece before you with very flattering, but quite undue ad- 
miration ; will you accept this, where my first conception 



JOURNAL. 203 

of it stands roughly embodied ? " I received it with much 
pleasure, and hold it as a very rich, though unpolished 
gem. 

In the evening, had the pleasure of Capt. F.'s compa- 
ny to tea. He was an officer in one of the highland 
regiments, and saw considerable service at Java and on 
the continent, of which he gave me many interesting de- 
tails ; particularly of events attending the siege of Ant- 
werp. On one occasion he was dining with a large 
party of his regiment, when the bombs were falling in 

the village of , when a black thirteen incher came 

smash through the roof and ceiling, its short fusee hiss- 
ing in their midst. An involuntary thrill for a moment 
ran through every frame, and then a dense crowd rushed 
out at every avenue. He had just escaped when it ex- 
ploded with a fearful sound. He returned, and then how 
sad a change was presented. The room so lately filled 
with laughter and joy, now filled with groans and dying 
gasps ! Amongst the broken food, there lay eighteen 
persons, gashed and smeared with blood, the horrible 
victims of insatiate war. 

Wednesday. Dined at Mr G — 's. Had a very soci- 
able time. I am truly much indebted to this kind fami- 
ly. They have treated me more like a child and bro- 
ther than like a stranger. I admire the daughters for 
their unostentatious but remarkable judgment and good 
sense. 

Sunday. In the morning went to St Paul's church, 
Dr Morehead's. He is an assistant of the celebrated 
Alison, who has written so finely "on taste." He now 
rarely preaches. The church is a fine one. It is in the 
Gothic style, with round towers at the angles. It has in 
the inside four beautiful fretted shafts supporting pointed 
Gothic arches, giving great height to the middle of the 



204 



JOURNAL. 









church. As the rich notes of the organ pealed through 
the vaulted galleries, I realized more than ever before, 
the feelings of those who have described their sensations 
in an English cathedral. A deep, mysterious pensive- 
ness stole over my senses, my mind floated on the swell- 
ing strains of the organ, and when it ceased, I felt as 
one waking from strange dreams. 

Tuesday. Attended classes. Heard a fine burst of 
eloquence from Professor Wilson against the impropriety 
of the loud whispering of some of the students in the 
lecture room. The conduct of some of these young 
men is frequently very unbecoming the refinement of 
scholars and gentlemen. Often I have seen them with 
an air of flippant disrespect to the courtesies of company, 
and to the claims of scholarship, remain with their hats 
on, during a whole lecture with an assurance unbecom- 
ing the aspirant for the honors of a university. This 
though not palliated by, is much to be ascribed to the 
faults of the system. 

Spent the evening at Mr O.'s, in conversation and 
music. The young ladies are very sensible as well as 
pretty girls. Indeed I scarce ever met with a young 
lady so perfectly free from affectation, so frank, so pleas- 
ant, so ingenuous as the eldest. She has one of those 
faces, which chastened by piety, whether sobered by 
reflection or sweetened with smiles, affords the calmest 
but deepest pleasure to behold. I love much to listen 
to her music, and more to hearken to the winning tones, 
which give a new charm to every subject on which she 
converses. The conversation was rather varied, but 
highly interesting and profitable. Dr Mason, Jonathan 
Edwards, Professor Stuart and Mrs Huntington were all 
alluded to in the highest terms of commendation. 



CHAPTER X. 

Professor Wilson — Emancipation — The General Assembly — Rev. Ed- 
ward Irving — Cholera — Ex-King- of France — Roslin Castle — Haw- 
thornden — Jewish Synagogue. 

Friday. Attended classes. Sketched in my note 
book a picture of Wilson in his lecture room, from the 
life, which I transfer to my Journal. Tall and large ; 
light sandy hair, long, carelessly parted over his high, 
round, regular forehead ; on the one side slightly curled, 
on the other, hanging loosely over his ear. Nose and 
mouth not particularly distinguished from other common, 
good-sized noses and mouths ; chin round, rubbing cozily 
enough against an ill-adjusted white handkerchief. His 
eyebrows partake of the color of his hair, a light sandy 
hue ; his eyes are deeply blue. He was attired in an 
old, black, silk tasselled gown, with a large, flapping, vel- 
vet collar, hanging awkwardly over his rusty grayish 
surtout. Entering the desk once graced by his illustrious 
predecessors, Stuart and Brown, pushing up his hair with 
the flat of his hand, he stands for a few moments in a 
careless manner, turning over, and endeavoring to adjust 
his scattered, soiled, torn, and dog's-eared manuscripts. 

Thursday. Breakfasted with Mrs Chalmers and her 
daughters ; the Doctor was absent. Sat an hour or two 
at the breakfast table, talking about emancipation, and 
18 



208 JOURNAL. 

colonization, and about slaves in general. She gave me 
her husband's view of one of the means to be used in 
procuring the freedom of these suffering creatures. Let 
societies and benevolent individuals purchase an addi- 
tional day from their masters for the slave ; who laying up 
the profits of this day's work, will himself be able to pur- 
chase another, and at length gain his entire freedom. 

Friday. Was at a little party at Mr O 's in the 

evening. It was pleasant — a kind of mixed party, like 
those not unusual in New England, where old and young, 
sober and gay, are brought at once into contact. A set 
of quadrilles was got up, which only served to confirm 
my opinion of the dancing of the Scotch. They are very 
awkward dancers. They move with great exertion, 
passing through all the steps with awful precision, and 
distressing gravity. 

Among others present, and here it would be esteemed 
nothing strange, was a mulatto lady. She was hand- 
somely dressed in black velvet, and appeared to feel by 
no means out of place. One of her daughters, a very 
pretty girl, is married to a wealthy gentleman of the 
place. The other, palely brown, was with her mother, 
and played and sang with considerable taste. 

Wednesday. As I understood that there. was to be 
" a commission of the general assembly," held at the 
Tron church at twelve, omitted some of the classes to be 
present at it. The meeting was opened with prayer, by 
the Moderator pro tern., Dr B. The minutes of the last 
meeting were then read by the Secretary. Dr Lee then 
produced a letter from the presbytery of Annan, (I think 
in England,) expressing their hearty approbation of 
the sentiments expressed by the " General Assembly," 
respecting heresies, and the measures adopted to check 
them, concluding with appropriate Christian sympathies. 



JOURNAL. 207 

Dr Lee remarked upon the pleasure which this gave him, 
and recommended and motioned that the receipt of it 
should not only be acknowledged, but thanks, &c. should 
be returned. In seconding the motion, Dr Dickson took 
occasion to animadvert upon the particular heresy of Mr 
Edward Irving, of London, wishing that it might be 
added to the duties of the committee appointed, also to 
inquire seriously and fully into that matter ; considering 
it in all its relations to the Scotch Establishment, par- 
ticularly, what power they could exercise over him, with 
reference to bringing the whole matter up before the 
General Assembly. This was met with objection by Dr 
McFarlan, of Glasgow, tending to show that by leaving 
Scotland, he had passed out of the jurisdiction of the Es- 
tablishment ; that interference would be unavailing, and 
would tend to weaken the real powers of the church. 
This was replied to in a very able and eloquent manner 
by Mr Simpson, to whom I have before alluded as a very 
ingenious and persevering advocate of the temperance 
society. He maintained that as a spiritual body, not 
simply as the engine of a state, but as the servants of a 
higher master, they had entrusted Mr Irving with an au- 
thority which he had now violated his right to. That no 
limits, however remote, removed him from such, their 
jurisdiction. They had conferred on him power and 
trust, because he had come up to certain requirements. 
He was entitled to claim and hold that power, as long as 
he met those requirements. When he failed to do so; as 
righteous men, it was their duty to demand of him as an 
honest man, to yield it up. As the church of Scotland, 
they could not compel him; as the church of Christ, they 
could. If they could not, they had no right to give 
ordination or license to any one out of Scotland. That 
like a wolf, he had prowled round long enough, bearing 



2Q8 JOURNAL. 

engraved on his collar, that he belonged to the church of 
Scotland. But according to the laws of the church, he 
had long since forfeited all claim to it. He was listened 
to, in these and other remarks which the debate gave rise 
to, with evident approbation, and many cries of " hear," 
" hear," " hear him." 

After considerable quibbling, the procurator, a church 
lawyer and writer to the signet, having offered his opin- 
ion as to some points of infringement upon the proceed- 
ings of the General Assembly, the motion for the com- 
mittee was almost unanimously adopted. This filled up 
the chief part of the time. Dr Lee, however, brought for- 
ward a motion that a committee should be selected for 
considering plans for the more universal and solemn ob- 
servance of the Sabbath, and particularly to consider 
whether something might not be suggested to render the 
visit of the King's representative to the General Assembly 
more conducive to good order, by altering the forms and 
ceremonies, with which he was ushered to church on the 
Sabbath. 

At five, had the honor of meeting a number of the 
reverend gentlemen of the committee, at Dr Dickson's 
where I dined. Among these were Dr Rennie, Mr 
Scott, Mr Lunday and others, some of whom had met 
Dr Codman in Edinburgh, and who appeared to hold 
him in just and high esteem. 

The conversation of course turned at first upon the 
business of the day. The state of feeling respecting Es- 
tablishments was especially adverted to. Dr Dickson 
thought that the measures adopted by the clergymen of 
the church in Edinburgh, since the desolations of the 
cholera, had tended very much to deepen the attachment 
of the people for them ; while one at least of the other 
gentlemen was of opinion that their slowness in appoint- 



JOURNAL. 209 

ing a fast, and in improving the solemn visitation to a spir- 
itual purpose, had tended much to weaken the partial- 
ity of the nation in general for them. They spoke with 
great pain of the lamentable state of the churches in the 
north, and with pleasure of the improvement in the pros- 
pects of the churches in the south, which I attribute to 
the pervading influence of an enlarged intelligence, and 
firmness in public opinion ; to which a lax church must 
yield, and which as it more than gets the start of its pat- 
ronized ministry, will press with increasing force, until 
an establishment, so long sustained by the fixedness of 
ancient customs, and by the genius of a few strong 
minds, will break beneath the weight, and give place for 
the higher energies, and nobler enterprise, of an aroused 
and powerful, but long slumbering piety. A number of 
characterestic anecdotes of celebrated men were told. 
One was of Sir Henry Montcrief, Dr D.'s colleague. 
The Lord Advocate Jeffries and a party, among whom 
was Sir Henry, were dining together. Sir Henry was 
stating something pretty positively ; Jeffries interrupted 
him, " I don't know that, Sir Harry." " Then I'll mak 
yer to know it," cried the reverend sir, with a terrible 
emphasis. 

Saturday. At Dr D.'s had some conversation on the 
cholera, which has appeared in the suburbs at the water 
of Leith. The people in that district as elsewhere, are 
much opposed to the hospitals, to which they will not 
consent to be removed ; and to the physicians, whom 
they even abuse and pelt with mud and stones, fancying 
that they wish to destroy them for dissection. They 
even went so far, as to offer to drive away Dr D. himself, 
who was sent by the magistrates and board of health, on 
account of the respect which the lower classes entertain 
for his character, to persuade them to receive the aids of 
18* 



210 JOURNAL. 

the profession. It is astonishing to see the infatuation 
which prevails upon this subject among the lower 
classes, perhaps arising from the mortality at Mussel- 
burgh. 

Sunday, March 11. Between meetings by invitation 
went to Lady Glenorchy's Chapel, to partake of the 
ordinance of the Lord's Supper. It is administered here 
once every two months. The communicants do not 
partake of it, as with us, in the pews, but at regular 
tables. Of course it takes a long time to dispense it in 
this way, as but a limited number can sit at each time. 
On this occasion the whole day was occupied. The 
services were very solemn. 

After I left the chapel I decided to go to the Catholic 
church, in order to witness the peculiar rites of the 
church, and see Charles X. ex-king of France. The 
king had not entered, but came in just after I took my 
seat. Unluckily my glasses could not quite reach his 
honored face, at least, to give me any idea of it, but I 
was fortunate in procuring the opera glass of a bystander. 
Adjusting with a trembling hand the glass, I brought his 
majesty and the royal party up so near that they almost 
rubbed against me. I cannot describe the sensations 
that overwhelmed me as I took this magical view. The 
glass only just took in the scope of the royal pew, 
the silk crimson curtains were slightly agitated, by the 
occasional touch of his majesty, as he moved forwards 
or backwards, but their rich folds did not hide him in the 
least from my scrutiny. There were two pews ; in the 
back one were his suite ; in the front one was his royal 
highness the young Duke of Bordeaux, a lady in the 
meridian of life, and a young female. 

The King is short, his face disagreeable, his expression 
harsh and fanatical, his lower lip large, his features in 



JOURNAL. 211 

general heavy, his hair of a sandy red. The young Duke 
of Bordeaux is a bright looking lad, with well marked, 
but not harsh features; his hair is also of a sandy red 
color. 

Tuesday. Improved the occasion in company with 
my friend, Mr H. to walk to Roslin castle and chapel, 
about seven miles ; the day was a pleasant one, and every- 
thing just as we could have desired. Having wandered 
for hours over these celebrated ruins, we visited the 
chapel, a most rich and curious piece of architecture. 
After some short rest we then started off for the romantic 
scenes of Hawthornden. Nothiug can surpass these in 
interest, whether from their own picturesque character, or 
considered as the residence of W. Drummond, the poet, 
and of his noble and warlike ancestors, and as the hiding 
place of many illustrious patriots. Entering the garden of 
Hawthornden we passed under the shade of the large tree 
where Drummond met Ben Jonson, who walked from 
London expressly to visit him. The gardener conduct- 
ed us to the house, where while we were waiting a 
moment for the woman who was to conduct us through 
it, and to the dark subterranean caves cut in the solid 
rock on which the house stands, I could not but take my 
pencil and copy off some lines on a board which was 
standing in an old store-house. I am sure I should 
hardly suppose the poet could rest quiet, while such lines 
occupy a place in those domains where his great genius 
so beautifully displayed itself. 

" The gard'ner at a hole looks out, 
And holes are many hereabout, 
A pair of pistols by his lug, 
One loaded with ball, the other with slug; 
A blunderbuss of cannon shape 
Is ready to discharge with grape ; 
His traps of steel and tempered mettle 
He sets in places sky and kittle." 



2i2 JOURNAL. 

We visited some of the rooms of the house, in which 
were several old and valuable relics. In the lower room 
there was a side table of dark mahogany of antique 
make covered with a marble slab. On this there were in 
brass the initials of Robert Bruce and Anna Drummond, 
with the date 1396. On the table was an immensely 
large double handed sword, which had come down 
through a long series of generations. In the apartment 
above we were shown the cane of the celebrated poet. 
But the object of greatest interest was a red tartan 
jacket worn by the Pretender, of which I secured a few 
shreds. As I carelessly picked them off, the good old 
lady said it " was a' ganging, 'specially the buttons, 
which were valuable." Having left this romantic scene 
and reached the public road just as the first shades of 
evening were stealing over the landscape, we moved 
briskly homewards. Before we arrived at the city the 
silver moon poured its pensive light over the scene, chas- 
tening at the same time the natural scenery around and 
the moral scenery within us. 

Thursday. Dined with Rev. Henry Gray, Inverleith 
Row. Had the pleasure of meeting Rev. Mr Lunday 
of Kelso, husband of the lady who has just written the 

memoirs of Rev. Mr Bruen, and also with Mrs , the 

authoress of Pierre and his Family. Had much conver- 
sation with Mr Lunday respecting Mr B., Dr Chalmers, 
Mr Irving, Moses Stuart and the state of religion in 
America, He lives near Melrose and Abbotsford, 
among the romanic scenery of the Tweed, where he 

invited me to spend a few days. Mrs is rather a 

large, well-made, intelligent lady, with black hair parted 
over a fine forehead. Her nose is Roman, her eyes 
large, black and sparkling. 

Friday. In the evening I went with Miss E. to the 



JOURNAL. 213 

Jewish synagogue. The room was dimly lighted. In 
the centre was a raised platform with a desk, on which 
stood two lighted candles, and a large opened volume. 
Before this book, out of which he chanted in a very 
rapid manner, but yet with a deep sweet tone, stood the 
High Priest. His hat was on his head, and a white 
mantle was thrown over his shoulders. Around the 
room, some having books and others not, were about forty 
persons ; some standing behind desks, others in an open 
space between them and the priest's desk. Some of 
these were very handsomely dressed, and appeared to be 
gentlemen ; others were evidently recognised as parts of 
that family, who take their daily lounge by the college, 
and corners of the streets, where they watch the passers- 
by, and in the slyest and most modest manner possible, 
accost the denizens of these crowded thoroughfares ; 
often repulsed, or not more noticed than the stones by 
many, yet assiduously plying their interrogatory ; " any 
old clothes?" here and there perhaps rewarded by a 
wink, when you see them at a respectful distance sham- 
bling after their victim. All these united very harmoni- 
ously in the chanting of the scriptures and talmud. 
The exercises were entirely in the Hebrew and Syriac. 
They pronounce well, yet not precisely as at Andover. 



CHAPTER XI. 

Professor Wilson — Bryant's Poems — American Writers — Scenery — 
Dr Chalmers — High Church — Lord Chief Justice Clerk — Professor 
Hope. 

Saturday, March 17. Called on Professor Wilson. 
Was ushered into his study, where among a chaotic mass 
of books and papers, I found him reclining on an easy 
elbow chair. On ordinary occasions he appears careless 
enough ; but never did mortal appear more so than then. 
His room was but the counterpart of himself. Books, 
chairs, papers, and manuscripts, all in the oddest combi- 
nation. In alluding to Bryant, whose works he had just 
received from Washington Irving, who has republished 
his works, with a beautiful preface, he remarked, " I 
have just been reading Mr B.'s poems, and I must reclaim 
the opinion I pronounced a day or two since (to me) re- 
specting him. I had only just looked at them — I have 
since read the volume with great pleasure. He is, how- 
ever, a different man from what I had thought. I expected 
much imagination, and less taste. But I find him very 
refined in his imaginations, and very classical in his 
taste. I wish I could get hold of more American authors. 
I have just received two volumes of American poetry by 
Samuel Kettell, which I am looking over ; have found 
some very pretty matter in them. I wish I could learn more 
about American poets. I have seen some of Bryant's, a 



JOURNAL. 215 

little of Percival's, a long time since, and a pretty little 
work of Pierpont's, " Airs of Palestine. " I mentioned 
to him among others, Mrs Sigourney. "O! yes, I re- 
member, I received a very good little volume from her, 
but lost her direction, and never could find it again." 
I spoke of Willis, Halleck, and some others to him. He 
told me that he intended to obtain, if he could, a number 
of the American poets, and should notice them in Black- 
wood. 

We then conversed about American scenery. He ex- 
pressed his strong desire to visit it; to travel on its rivers ; 
to explore its forests. He had so long written upon 
English scenery, that there was nothing new for his 
mind to enjoy. Everything had lost its freshness, and 
nothing would give him greater delight than to move 
among new objects, that he might have the luxury of new 
thoughts. 

While there, his daughter came in, a black-eyed, 
black-haired little miss of about fifteen, to hand a billet 
and say, " Pa, is there any answer?" and passed away 
like a dream. After considerable more conversation on 
American characters, Webster, Everett, and one or two 
others, I departed. As I went through the entry, I no- 
ticed a fishing rod in the corner, which quite reminded 
me of Blackwood. 

As it was five o'clock, called for Mr H. who was, as 
well as myself, to be a guest at Dr Chalmers'. When 
we entered, found ourselves in a brightly illuminated 
parlor, elegantly furnished ; the windows hung with blue 
silk curtains. A pier table was in the centre of the 
room, with the literary ornaments of a drawing-room, 
elegantly spread over it. We were politely welcomed by 
the Doctor, and then shook hands and exchanged cour- 
tesies with his handsome and graceful lady, and with his 



216 



JOURNAL. 



daughters. We found ourselves instantly introduced 
into an animated conversation respecting Ireland, which 
was afterwards renewed when the ladies left the dinner 
table. It was respecting the circulation of the bible 
through Ireland ; the use of it in the schools supported 
by government. On this subject the Doctor remarked, 
" Popish or protestant teachers, no matter which, let the 
bible be taught — have it not discarded ; let it circulate 
in the schools, even in their own editions, if it must be : 
let the scriptures be introduced — let the pupils under- 
stand them." On Ireland, and I believe he extended it 
to the country generally, he remarked, — " Now I think 
the country is just in that feverish state, when common 
remedies will avail but little ; a fearful state has arrived, 
when nothing will answer but blood-letting." 

We were interrupted in our conversation by the an- 
nouncement of dinner. The table displayed elegance 
and luxury. It was not brought on in courses, but 
shone with concentrated glory upon the entering party. 
A handsome silver dish with delicate lettuce adorned the 
centre of the table. A fine piece of turbot in its ample 
dish graced the Doctor's end, a smoking turreen of soup 
his lady's end of the table. The intervals between 
these were filled up by all the show of rich dishes, the 
regularity of plates, the sparkle of cut crystal glasses, 
the polish of steel, and the shining of silver. 

I do not particularly remember any remark that fell 
from the Doctor at the table except this. We were speak- 
ing of London. " When I was a young man in London, 
I devoted three weeks exclusively to wandering round 
the city. Taking my breakfast early I went to every 
place worthy of observation. After wandering for a long 
time, I would go each day to some new description of 
house to dine, each presenting some new diversity of 



JOURNAL. 217 

character — some were wonderfully cheap, four pence 
for steak, penny for potatoes, penny for bread, three 
pence for porter, and half penny for waiter, which seem- 
ed so cheap that I could not refrain the penny, which 
excited so many bows, and so much gratitude, as failed 
not sometimes to bring me back again. I was struck 
forcibly with the remark of Johnson, that one got no idea 
of the greatness of London, except by wandering through 
the lanes and populous narrow streets, which he called 
1 the tortuosities^ of London.' I sometimes wandered 
for hours, traversing the interminable ways, lost in the 
mazes of its uncounted receptacles of being. And 1 do 
believe that Pekin must fall short of this thronged and 
mighty world. " 

Having returned to the parlor, I had an opportunity of 
taking a more accurate survey, though I did not think 
to do so while there ; however I could not but notice a fine 
bust of the Doctor, executed by a female friend, 1 think 
he informed me. It was very well done and gives a 
juster idea of this remarkable man than anything else 
which I have ever seen. 

In the evening we were favored with some fine music 
from Miss C. As-the Doctor was standing near me, I 
inquired how he was pleased with that style of music. 
It was one of HummeFs best compositions. His reply 
was, " I cannot sympathize at all in that music; it 
excites no melody in my heart. I love the simple Scotch 
airs." I asked, " of those, which are your favorites?" 
" Those which I prefer to any others are, ' Flowers of 
the Forest,' * Blaithrie o't,' ' Jet, jet black/ and ' Mary 
of Castle Gary' ;" then turning to his daughter he affec- 
tionately said, " Will you play those, my dear, for Mr 
M." As it was not late when we retired, Mr. H. re- 
marked that the Irish gentlemen in Edinburgh, celebra- 
19 



218 



JOURNAL. 



ted St Patrick's day by a dinner at the Athenian, and I 
might never have so good a collective view of them, as 
by stopping there for a few moments. We accordingly 
did so. There might have been about a hundred gen- 
tlemen present, sitting around a number of tables. We 
went into an alcove commanding the whole room, where 
we could smile or speculate upon the various exhibitions 
of character as we chose. There was a very good 
band playing, and a female who sang some national airs 
with a rich and captivating voice. Purely national airs 
were received with great enthusiasm, especially by some 
who were fast travelling from the regions of sobriety and 
guarded expression. 

Sunday. In the morning went to the High church. 
The officers of state and justice were introduced in their 
usual form. As I commanded an excellent view of Lord 
Chief Justice Clerk, so celebrated for his sarcasm, 
clearness and force of character, I will endeavor, though 
so many days have intervened, to describe him. He is 
a large man. He has a bald head, which, as well as his 
face, is remarkably red. The hair on the sides of his 
head is snowy white. His forehead is not peculiarly 
ample. The flesh over each eye brow, either sinks in or 
wrinkles up into a resemblance of the pointed arch under 
which he sits in judicial conspicuousness. Under these, 
his curious little peering eyes shoot out most saga- 
ciously, scanning with inquisitive search the preach- 
er, the bible, or the auditors. He was dressed in a 
red gown with a crimson velvet collar, overhung with a 
rich gold chain. 

After church, as I was waiting in the chancel, I had 
an opportunity of witnessing the ceremonies with which 
the magistrates were conducted from the church. They 
were attended by five soldiers with long Lochabar axes. 



JOURNAL. 219 

These fellows are the last relic of an earlier age. They 
wore old fashioned frock coats, trimmed highly on the 
edges, by the buttons, sleeves, and pockets, with wide 
silver lace, which, as well as their silver buttons, bore 
the figure of a castle. Their breeches were of a kind of 
light red velvet, which met at the knee their long black 
cotton hose, which in its turn entered no less substan- 
tially at the ancle, into a strong pair of square toed shoes. 
Their erect heads were surmounted by singularly old 
fashioned cocked hats With this venerable and trusty 
escort in front, moved the judges in their red gowns, and 
the other magistrates in their black ones, with two officers 
behind, bearing the large sword and sceptre of state. 
Thus they were ushered from the church to the hotel, 
where they were to disrobe or dine. 

March 21. In the afternoon understanding that Dr Chal- 
mers was to preach at St George's church, Mr H. and my- 
self proceeded thither. We found a large crowd waiting 
in the ante-rooms and porch, while the regular sitters were 
taking their places, which is always customary at this, 
and some of the first churches, there being a number of 
beadles employed in showing persons to places. At 
length with a strong and noiseless rush we were borne 
into the aisles. 

The sermon was a most excellent one, on prayer 
meetings ; the objections recently urged against prayer, 
and as a consequence against fasting, an argument 
derived from the regularity of nature's sequences, were 
met by showing that this chain of causes and effects, rises 
up far above our ken, until it reaches the throne of God. 
That a certain unchanging region God has established 
for prudence and philosophy to walk in ; but above this 
he moves ; and thus moves all, and governs all, and be- 
comes the arbiter of every event of life ; the hearer and 



220 JOURNAL. 

answerer of prayer. The argument was a triumphant 
one. There were some beautiful touches in it. 

Thursday. Dropped in to hear Professor Hope, much 
celebrated for his lectures on chemistry. His is one of 
the most numerously attended classes. From four to five 
hundred students were present. These by no means exhi- 
bit the decorum observed at the Cambridge lecture rooms. 
Nearly one third remained with covered heads during 
the whole of the lecture. This, as well as the repeated 
expressions of approbation, of which there were no less 
than nine, hissed quickly down if they continued too 
long, would hardly comport with the sobrieties of our 
lecture rooms. 

I had scarce secured a seat, before Mr Hope entered. 
He is a man of middle size ; rather, though not awk- 
wardly corpulent. His head is handsomely modelled. 
From his tangled gray eyebrows, a broad and regular 
forehead rounds up to the top of his head, where it finds 
a fine termination in the semicircle of dark gray hair, 
which commencing by the temples, runs gracefully round 
the lower part of his head. His motions were frequent, 
free and graceful. He read the principal part of the 
lecture, which was on the subject of electricity. The 
excellence of his matter, and the success and readiness 
of his experiments adequately made up for something 
like monotony in the tone of his delivery. In performing 
his experiments, when intent upon the result, he draws 
up his lower lip and wrinkles up his forehead, in a man- 
ner that strangely contracts its size. 



CHAPTER XII. 

The Author of Mansie Wauch — Melrose Abbey — Abbotsford. 

Monday. Visited Rev. Mr J. at Musselburgh about 
five miles from Edinburgh. Several gentlemen present : 
among them was Dr Muir, the celebrated Delta, the 
author of Mansie Wauch, and a popular writer in Black- 
wood's Magazine. He is rather tall, has a good figure. 
and was dressed entirely in black. His hair was 
sandy ; his complexion of that kind of ruddiness which 
a face slightly pitted with small pox admits of. — 
The conversation was animated, but not particularly elo- 
quent. 

In speaking of Wilson, Dr Muir thought that for great- 
ness and versatility of genius, he was one of the greatest 
men living. That he could do more than any man in 
Europe, in less time, and with less preparation. Spoke 
highly of Shelley and Keats ; of the latter he remarked, 
" Keats has never been fully appreciated. Lockhart 
treated him too cruelly. I entreated L. to spare him, 
but he had become grouped with those against whom he 
had determined to direct his darts, and each one seemed 
to go quivering into poor K.'s bosom. I do not doubt 
but L. repents it now ; he must do so. Like a wounded 
roe, poor K. went bleeding from his pursuers, and at last 
in Rome, of very anguish of spirit, died. I do not doubt 
19* 



222 JOURNAL. 

but Bulvver's beautiful episode of the f unfortunate Artist/ 
had its original in Keats." 

He spoke of Tait's Magazine ; said that Brown, with 
all his grit and bitterness, would never be able to stand 
up against the handling that Wilson and the Evening 
Post would give him. 

Took tea at Mr G.'s. Met Mr Aikman, author of Arch- 
bishop Leighton's Life, and of the History of Scotland. 
Though this work has made a fortune of 40,000 pounds 
for the publisher, he has scarce realized anything from it. 

Edinburgh, April 10. At the close of the session, on 
the third instant, I decided to make preparations for leav- 
ing for the Continent, on the twelfth. In the interim, 
decided to visit for a day or two, Abbotsford, the well 
known residence of Sir Walter Scott ; and the celebrated 
Melrose Abbey, in its vicinity, about forty miles distant 
from the city. I have just completed my brief tour, of 
which I find these few hasty pencil sketches, in my 
pocket note book. 

I have just returned from the silent grave-yard of Mel- 
rose Abbey, where I have been wandering. The pale 
and waning moon was just rising above the low roofs of 
Melrose ; casting a pale and uncertain light upon the 
shafts and tomb-stones, and giving to the sombre and 
ruined abbey, a more venerable and impressive character. 
The silver light scarcely tinged the slender pinnacles, 
yet was distinct enough to cast a part of the solemn pile 
into a darker shade. The walls on one side were much 
broken down. There was something very solemn in 
standing in a church-yard, for some ten centuries the 
receptacle of the dead. An indescribable sensation of 
awe crept over my mind, while under the funereal 
shadow of this crumbling monastic pile ; a place that is 
connected with all that is proud or humbling — virtuous, 



JOURNAL. 223 

vicious, pure, or superstitious, quiet or disturbed, base, 
puerile, and intriguing, or noble and generous in the 
history of Scottish Catholicism. Such a place must 
deeply impress any one, however much accustomed to 
the antiquity and associations of an old world, but par- 
ticularly so must it affect an American. 

April 6. This morning I again visited the celebrated 
Abbey. This extensive pile was erected in 1136; but 
though in ruins, it retains no little of the splendor, with 
which successive ages had enriched it. A considerable 
part has fallen ; the portion which is standing appears quite 
firm and capable of enduring the shocks of centuries. 
After walking around it we took a guide and entered its 
sacred precincts. I was struck with the remarkable ac- 
curacy of Scott's description of this imposing and splen- 
did edifice. These lines recurred with peculiar pleasure 
to my mind and now they seem to be rather like a 
painting than a mere verbal description. 

" The moon on the east oriel shone, 
Through slender shafts of shapely stone, 
By foliaged tracery combined ; 
Thou wouldst have thought some fairy's hand, 
'Tvvixt poplars straight the ozier wand, 
In many a freakish knot had twined ; 
Then framed a spell when the work was done 
And changed the willow wreath to stone," 

The guide conducted us to the 

" Broad flagstone, 
Which the bloody cross was traced upon." 

Nor did we forget to sit on the 

" Marble stone, 
A Scottish monarch slept below." 

About eleven or twelve started off to try our lines in 
the celebrated waters of the Tweed. This far-famed 



224 



JOURNAL. 



river is neither in this place broad or deep, being in 
some places scarce two lines' cast from shore to shore. 
And in one place I saw a person ride through on horse- 
back, and generally I should not think its depth to have 
been more than eight or ten feet in the deepest parts, at 
least as far as I wandered. The banks though rough 
are almost free from bush, which gives a fine chance to 
throw the long light line with the fancy-flies, far into the 
rushing stream. Beyond the banks the country, except 
in patches, is mountainous, or perhaps I should rather say 
covered with a thousand hills ; these are divided off into 
numerous patches, some torn up with the harrow, some 
neatly ploughed, others seemed to be wild pastures spot- 
ted with white sheep. As I followed the road up to Ab- 
botsford, the Eildon hills lay bare with their colored 
peaks on the one side, a chain of hills stretched off on 
the other ; here were wide patches of cultivated fields, 
and there were bleak brown moors along the road side. 
I at length unexpectedly reached Abbotsford ; passed a 
low red gate and in a moment or two came to a small 
door of rusty iron open work. On entering this gate I 
found myself in a shaded walk, above the trees of which, 
the turrets and gables of Abbotsford were to be seen. 
As I was walking down the gravel path a large tawny 
hound came barking at me ; however, as I met him 
without fear, he turned, and proceeding before me with 
an occasional bark conducted me to a cottage, where I 
made inquiry for the entrance to Abbotsford. Abbots- 
ford is surrounded by a wall entered by a gate, on the 
large posts of which are two small turrets. The large 
open-work gate has towers, with a porter's lodge and 
windows over the smaller gate; by its side a hound carv- 
ed in stone gazes grimly at the intruder. On opening 
this gate I found myself at the top of a flight of stone 



JOURNAL. 225 

steps, which terminated in a court yard surrounded with 
buildings. Knocking at a gate I was accosted by an 
old dame who directed me to go round to the other side 
of the castle, where I would get admittance. After 
knocking with no other return than a hollow echo at one 
or two doors, at length at one strewn around with wast- 
ed flowers, I heard the sound of distant steps approach- 
ing through the entry. An old matron opened the door 
and to my inquiry whether I could see Abbotsford today, 
replied " Oh I dare say Mistress Alice will show you 
round ;" so with this encouraging answer, she straight- 
way proceeded after Mistress Alice, who shortly appear- 
ed, and with the air of a conductress, led me up a pair 
of winding stairs to the ante-room ; from thence I 
visited the rest.* Before leaving I prevailed on Mistress 
Alice to give me some of Sir Walter Scott's hand writing, 
and a seal from one of his letters ; also took a number 
of flowers from her mantel shelf. After leaving Abbots- 
ford I walked down to the Gala water, some seven or 
eight miles, where I was to meet my cornpa prions. 

April 11. In the Frith of Forth, bound for London, 
In bidding adieu to my kind, hospitable, and numer- 
ous friends in Edinburgh, I experienced a degree of 
tender feeling and warm sympathy of which I felt myself 
to be altogether unworthy. Often, often will the recol- 
lection of Edinburgh be recalled with a thousand pleas- 
ant remembrances. I can never forget the kindness of 
Dr Chalmers, on Monday, when after breakfasting with 
him, he bade me the last affectionate farewell ; thank- 
ing me for a little note of kindness, the testimony of my 

* A minute description of the several rooms is contained in the 
writer's pocket journal ; but as it was written with a pencil, the 
characters have become so obliterated, that the editor has been 
unable to decypher and transcribe them. 



226 JOURNAL. 

gratitude and esteem, which I had written him. Nor 
can I forget the sense of unworthiness which overpower- 
ed my mind when his last benediction was spoken over 
me — " God bless you ! God bless you l M A hundred in- 
teresting friendships are now with me to be forever 
terminated except in memory ; the interchange of courte- 
sies, and language, and smiles, has ceased, and my 
heart feels all the bitter loneliness of separation. 

Note. After Henry's visit to Abbotsford he returned to Edin- 
burgh, where he remained but a few days, and then departed for 
the Continent. He did not at that time anticipate a return to Edin- 
burgh. It will be perceived that after travelling several months on 
the continent, he again returned to Scotland, and spent the winter 
of 1832-3 in Edinburgh, in the attendance of a second course of 
lectures. Ed. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

River Thames — London — Thames Tunnel — Westminster Abbey — 
Lord Chancellor Brougham — Mr Coleridge — Rev. Edward Irving- — 
Catholic Church — Bishop of Calcutta *— Leaves London — Dover, 

April 16. River Thames. The day is most lovely. 
The Earl of Weymiss, before a very light wind, is moving 
slowly up the river. Already we have passed a great 
number of vessels. Small fleets of twenty or thirty sail, 
have been moving by us on every side. We have just 
passed a large naval station, at the mouth of the Med- 
way, where I counted twentytwo or three first rate men- 
of-war, riding at anchor. Two steamboats have just 
darted by us, on a swift race, their bands playing merrily. 
Quite a number of vessels were off Gravesend ; three 
or four first rate Indiamen, of fourteen hundred tons' bur- 
then, and some of them pierced for thirty guns. 

Passed Errith, a lovely wooded hill, crowned with a 
church and mansion house, with a green and sunny 
landscape below, with here and there a neat cot, with its 
haystack and pretty thorn hedge. At three, came up 
to Woolwich, a naval station. Here were a number of 
men-of-war, and some eight or ten hulks, the gloomy 
abode of the hopeless convicts. W. is a complete arsenal ; 
I counted nine or ten large buildings, covering men-of- 
war, and smaller ones for all the various purposes of an 



228 



JOURNAL. 



armament, were scattered all along the shore. It is 
built principally of brick, and has about seventeen thou- 
sand inhabitants. Passed Blackwall, celebrated for its 
commercial shipping. It houses are variously painted. 

Greenwich Hospital is a splendid building, with a 
capacious enclosed square, with a beautiful front of De- 
vonshire graystone. It has two large black domes, 
borne up by Corinthian columns. The view at a dis- 
tance is most magnificent. 

Passed Deptford, an extensive naval depot. It has 
range after range of marine stores, along the banks of the 
Thames, up and down which the deliberate red-coats 
were slowly marching. 

We are now entering forests of London shipping, but 
the order is so perfect, that we fly unheeded and un- 
harmed along, at the rate of eight or nine miles an hour. 
We are sailing in the city. Wonderful ! wonderful ! 
Houses, spires, ships, boats, men, horses, all seen flying 
together. In the immensity of objects, individuality is 
almost lost. The houses seem old, low, irregular, and 
are painted with a hundred different colors. 

London, April 18. Arrived in London Monday night. 
Tuesday was occupied in going round the city, of which 
I have got a pretty good idea — am quite overwhelmed 
with its magnitude, activity and splendor. It resembles 
Boston, in its tortuosities; New York, in its activity; 
Philadelphia, in its magnificence. Passed through many 
a noted street. Walked over Tower Hill, where I had 
a good view of the close pent city, within the walls of the 
dark gray fortalice at its foot. 

Started off with two others for the Thames Tunnel. 
To reach it by foot would have been almost a day's jour- 
ney, so depositing ourselves safely in a hack, we soon 
threaded the streets until we reached the vicinity of the 



JOURNAL. 229 

river ; half an hour's walk brought us to the Tower stairs, 
where taking a wherry, we darted down the running 
tide past the docks, swollen with the productions of every 
clime, and landed in about twenty minutes, on the other 
side. After circulating rapidly through certain lanes 
and by-streets, we came to the entrance. We here paid 
a shilling each, and passed through a turnstile of brass : 
(which, by the way, is formed with an index, to prevent 
any deception on the part of the keeper,) to an immense 
circular building where powerful engines are placed, 
which were employed to raise the water, which some 
time since burst into the advancing tunnel. Descending 
this, by winding stairs, we at length came in sight of an 
illuminated perspective, which stretches out some five 
hundred feet before you, under the swift tide of a mighty 
river. Its effect is quite magical. The gas shines so 
brightly, yet so softly on the white and curving walls of 
the tunnel, that one rather imagines it to be a delusion, 
than the mighty reality which soon forces itself on the 
senses. We went nearly to the end of the excavation, 
which extends to the middle of the river ; and were then 
forced to stop, by a mirror which threw back a thousand 
lamps, and our own persons on us. While standing here, 
the guide described the fatal accident which had so much 
impeded the work. I confess it made the blood shiver in 
my veins. 

In the afternoon went to Westminster Abbey church. 
After the service there was a burial in the Abbey yard, 
which I stopped to witness ; six figures in black hoods, 
and an old man, composed the number of mourners ; 
they were preceded by two or three persons bear- 
ing black batons, and followed by a respectful multitude 
collected from various parts of the church yard. I shall 
20 



230 JOURNAL. 

not attempt here a description of the Abbey, but say 
simply, that this venerable pile has a most imposing ap- 
pearance. Its architecture embraces the rudeness, the 
strength, the ornaments, and elegance of various ages. 
As far as I have had an opportunity of observing, there 
were four principal parts. The left wing is exceeding- 
ly rich in design and execution. The fret work with 
which the towers, and windows, and turrets, indeed 
every part of the immense pile is covered, gives it the 
appearance of one huge pile of lace work. The front of 
the building, with its low, retiring, pointed, gothic 
entrance and dark circular windows, is gloomy and 
grand. The right wing with its heavy buttresses, 
its giant windows, its mouldering niches, with broken 
or grim statues, has a masculine and stern charac- 
ter. The overshadowing presence of this majestic 
pile added much to the natural solemnity of the occa- 
sion. 

Thursdaij, April 26. Visited Guildhall. This build- 
ing stands near the Parliament house and is occupied by 
several courts. These have all one general entrance ; 
or rather they are all entered from the ancient hall. I 
visited King's Bench, Chancellor Court, and several other 
courts. I saw the Lord Chancellor himself. He is a 
much better looking man than I expected ; his strong 
and inflexible features seemed to express at times 
somewhat of impatience at the slow and measured course 
of Solicitor B. who truly moved with all the propriety due 
his own stiff curled wig. He sat almost constantly 
either with his hand over his face, or with his finger or 
thumb against his teeth. 

Saturday, April 27. Walked to Highgate to call on 
Mr Coleridge. I was ushered into the parlor while the 
girl carried up my letter to his room. She presently re- 



JOURNAL. 231 

turned and observed that her master was very poorly, but 
would be happy to see me, if I would walk up to his 
room, which T gladly did. He is short in stature and 
appeared to be careless in his dress. I was impressed 
with the strength of his expression, his venerable locks 
of white, and his trembling frame. He remarked that he 
had for some time past suffered much bodily anguish. 
For many months (thirteen) seventeen hours each day 
had he walked up and down his chamber. I inquired 
whether his mental powers were affected by such intense 
suffering ; " Not at all," said he, " my body and head 
appear to hold no connexion ; the pain of my body, bless- 
ed be God, never reaches my mind." After some fur- 
ther conversation and some inquiries respecting Dr Chal- 
mers, he remarked " The Doctor must have suffered 
exceedingly at the strange conduct of our once dear 
brother laborer in Christ, Rev. Mr Irving. Never can I 
describe how much it has wrung my bosom. I had 
watched with astonishment and admiration the wonder- 
ful and rapid developement of his powers. Never was 
such unexampled advance in intellect as between his 
first and second volume of sermons. The first full of 
Gallici ms and Scoticisms, and all other cisms. The 
second discovering all the elegance and power of the best 
writers of the Elizabethean age. And then so sudden a 
fall, when his mighty energies made him so terrible to 
sinners." Of the mind of the celebrated Puffendorf he 
said, "his mind is like some mighty volcano, red with 
flame, and dark with tossing clouds of smoke through 
which the lightnings play and glare most awfully." Speak- 
ing of the state of the different classes of England, he re- 
marked " we are in a dreadful state ; care like a foul hag 
sits on us all ; one class presses with iron foot upon the 



232 



JOURNAL. 



wounded heads beneath, and all struggle for a worthless 
supremacy, and all to rise to it move shackled by their 
expenses ; happy, happy are you to hold your birth- 
right in a country where things are different ; you, at 
least at present, are in a transition state ; God grant it 
may ever be so ! Sir, things have come to a dreadful 
pass with us, we need most deeply a reform, but I fear 
not the horrid reform which we shall have ; things must 
alter, the upper classes of England have made the lower 
persons, things ; the people in breaking from this unnat- 
ural state will break from duties also." 

He spoke of Mr Alston with great affection and high 
encomium ; he thought him in imagination and color 
almost unrivalled. 

On my way home, I passed Mr Irving's church, where, 
as there was a meeting, I entered. Mr I. is, as described, 
one of the finest looking men living. The dark and 
long locks which parted over his fine and ample forehead, 
hanging in graceful curls down upon his neck, give him 
a most apostolic appearance. His features are very 
regular and strong ; his expression and motions combine 
ease, elegance, dignity, and command. However dis- 
sentient in opinion, his manner completely controls his 
audience. I wonder not that Canning and Brougham 
sat enchained by the spell of his mighty, and then well 
ordered spirit. As I entered, an individual was reading 
in the scriptures ; every now and then he cried out in 
the most unintelligible manner, something that was in- 
tended for the " unknown tongue." Mr Irving, in the 
midst of a prayer for a sick child near Edinburgh, whose 
parents had written for " the prayer of faith," was inter- 
rupted in the most singular manner by a female (Miss 
Cardie) who cried out with a very loud voice, till fairly 



JOURNAL; 233 

exhausted, " The spirit has come, it has come ; cry 
mightily, mightily, pour out supplication ; the spirit is 
on you, the spirit is on you, I know it is on you ; have 
faith, oh ! have faith ! " &>c. 

Sunday, Being in search of some place of worship, 
I came to one which had quite a current pouring to its 
doors. That is the place I am seeking, thought I, so I 
entered the door. " Sixpence, sir, sixpence, if you 
please." " Sixpence?" said I, " what, pay for entering 
the church 1 " however, thought I, if so many pay six- 
pence, there 's certainly something worth hearing. I 
paid the silver and was ushered in. To my surprise, the 
door closed behind me, and I stood in the aisle of a 
Catholic chapel, one of the best in London. It was 
adorned with everything that could impose upon the 
senses, and awe the mind. Behind the altar blazed 
many a waxen taper. Behind this, thrown as it were out 
of the chapel, occupying the whole of the arch of the 
church, was a fine painting of the crucifixion. The roof 
was ornamented with paintings, illustrative of the scrip- 
ture history. The mummery was much the same as is 
usual at the Roman chapels which I have before visited. 
A pretty good sermon was preached on the tenth com- 
mandment, in which the spiritualness of the law was 
properly set forth. But the manner in which man tran- 
gressed it habitually, and the way in which he might 
conform himself to its pure and holy precepts, were not 
so set forth. 

In the evening went to hear Mr Irving. The house 
was very crowded. He lectured on the twelfth of 
Romans. After reading the first verse, he paused and 
repeated the latter part of it, and observed, " How does 
this comport with your doctrine ? put then away your 
vile and unholy doctrine, and sin no more. Here we 
20* 



234 JOURNAL. 

are told to offer our bodies, a pure and acceptable sacri- 
fice ; but this, say these defenders and abettors of sin, 
(for I call them no better) is impossible. To support so 
horrid a doctrine, which makes 'sin abound because of 
grace,' they urge the latter part of the seventh of Romans. 
Now this was put by Paul in the mouth of a natural man, to 
express the miserable, destitute, and pitiable condition of 
one not made spiritually alive, a conqueror over the flesh, 
through Christ. You perceive that their wicked conclu- 
sion rests on a hasty and unnatural misapplication of 
doctrine." If I understood him aright, or if his words 
were fairly explained, he seemed to convey the idea that 
man was originally in the same state that Christ was ; 
that he might have continued in the state that Christ did ; 
that having departed from the state of likeness to Christ, 
he might return to it, and be precisely like him, even in 
this world. He certainly degraded the glorious charac- 
ter, and nature, and origin of Christ; or at least these 
words imply such a thing. " Christ's flesh was mortal 
and corruptible, but was made pure by reason of his 
having received and used the spirit, and that continually ; 
he received it clean, and he kept it clean. His flesh was 
not less temptible than that of others, but the spirit of a 
perfect believer was in it." 

Among other objections which he noticed, was this, 
" But, brother," say these wily men, " are you, who 
preach perfection, perfect ? have you succeeded V* i( No ; 
it is very true that I have not attained perfection, but 
I am endeavoring to, and as it is written, ' seek and ye 
shall find,' I know I shall ; but ye, having no confidence, 
will not seek, therefore ye will not find." 

At least the first part of this was ingenious enough, 
but the whole taken together, developes his error. He 
supposes that because we are commanded to attain unto 



JOURNAL. 235 

perfection, to rise to such a standard, it is necessary per- 
fectly to meet that standard ; whereas, to me, the necessity 
seems to lie in the endeavor to keep it : we cannot with 
all our powers, fully meet this perfect, spiritual law, while 
in the flesh, but if we are chosen, it may be, it must be, 
indeed it will be, our prayer, our heart's desire and en- 
deavor to keep it. Because we can only attain to a cer- 
tain degree of excellence in the divine life, is no reason 
why the standard should be brought down to that degree ; 
for we can admire its perfection and glory, and can be, 
and are stimulated by it, while it exalts itself far above our 
reach. Besides, the higher and purer the command, the 
more lofty and glorious does the character of the giver 
of it rise ; and thus does it call out from our bosoms at 
once, humility and praise. 

Monday morning. Breakfasted with the Lord Bishop 
of Calcutta. Found a farewell party of about twenty 
ladies and gentlemen. Soon after I entered, a chapter 
was read, and the Bishop read his remarks upon it 
from his note book, as he proceeded. They breathed a 
very humble and scriptural spirit. After this, he made 
a most excellent prayer ; it was minute and specific, 
touching everything very closely, and bringing them 
directly up for the divine blessing, and notice, and favor. 

May 7. Left London for Dover. The ride was 
through the county of Kent. The county is considered 
a very pleasant one. It is in spots very beautiful, but 
though diversified, it is not strikingly so. The hills are 
too regular. On the way, I noticed great numbers of 
chalk mines. Indeed where the harrow had passed, the 
ground is in many places fairly white ; though elsewhere 
it was extremely verdant. The beauty of the landscape 
was much heightened by the thick and fragrant apple- 
blossoms, with which the orchards were covered. Many 



236 



JOURNAL. 



views on the route took in the Thames ; one particularly, 
from Broughton Mills, for extent, beauty of villages, 
richness of cultivation, was certainly one of the noblest I 
have ever seen. 

Dover, May 9. Dover is a small town, very irregularly 
built at the base of some bold and snowy chalk cliffs. Its 
streets are narrow and circuitous. It possesses no build- 
ings of importance, except its dark castle, which with 
rude and time-worn battlements, frowns on the pacific 
cliffs and hostelrie below. 

Dover is a depot where travellers to and from the Con- 
tinent, put up for the night. I shall leave in the first boat 
for Calais, as boats for other ports are still interdicted 
communication with England, on account of the cholera. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

Route from Calais to Paris — Pere la Chaise — Funeral of Cuvier — 
Casemir Perrier — St Cloud — Burial of General Lamarque — Disturb- 
ances . 

Left the white cliffs of England, for France. In Ca- 
lais I was ushered to the custom house, reported my 
name, left my baggage and then went to the hotel. 

Calais is an old town, surrounded by ramparts. Its 
streets are very irregular. It has no buildings worth 
mentioning, if I except a tolerably decent town house, 
and a Catholic church fitted up with all those objects 
which are calculated to deceive the ignorant. The 
houses are generally two stories high, built of brick, and 
many of them stuccoed over, painted white and yeiiow. 

At ten the rumbling diligence was ready, and I found 
myself moving from Calais, at the pace of six or seven 
miles an hour, in company with two persons who were 
puffing their wretched tobacco at about the same rate. 
Soon fell asleep and woke not till we stopped to change 
horses. I got out. It was a calm moon-light night. 
The heavens serenely blue. A fleecy cloud or two were 
near, but did not obscure the orb of night. The street in 
which we were, was broad, having on each side houses of 
yellow stucco work, with large windows with blinds. 
Softened as they were by the moon-light, the scene had 



238 



JOURNAL. 



to me all the charm which substantial realities can pos- 
sess. We soon started ; and in a few moments rolled 
under a long dark arch and out upon the creaking draw- 
bridge. The solitary guard eyed us as we passed, and 
moved on his deliberate march. Again we left another 
rampart, trench and drawbridge behind, and soon the 
silver light had melted from one or two high turrets and 
spires and we rumbled along over a level and most unin- 
teresting country. At four we stopped at Dunkirk. This 
place much resembled the last, save that the houses were 
higher and more irregular. This was fortified in the 
same manner. During this day I passed over a very flat 
country. The cultivation was general, but the scenery 
was uninteresting ; there was nothing to relieve the 
monotony of the landscape, save here and there a cottage 
of French or Dutch construction, or the lines of rude 
shaped windmills, or a village of miserable hovels over- 
topped by the vast turrets of an expensive church. The 
towers were all walled and trenched, and many a guard 
stood at every avenue, reminding the traveller of the 
days of the suspicious Louis XI. 

Wednesday. Arrived at Lille, a large and handsome 
town containing about sixty thousand inhabitants. The 
houses in this city look more like paintings than reality. 
This arises from the circumstance, that their smooth 
stucco is painted in a very light manner, their blinds and 
doors rather fancifully ; this added to the novelties seen 
in the dress of children and -the lower classes of society, 
particularly the females, and the number of soldiers, mus- 
tachoed and uniformed men, gives it exceedingly the 
air of a fine parorama. Slept at Lille, and decided as a 
long quarantine would be necessary if I went into Ger- 
many, to proceed to Paris, as the cholera was rapidly 
diminishing. 



JOURNAL. 239 

Paris, May 13. I am pleasantly situated in a family 
where some of the young ladies speak English. During 
the month that I remain with them, I hope to make some 
proficiency in the language ; at least so as to be able to 
travel without imposition and inconvenience. I find great 
magnificence in the public buildings and gardens, and 
splendid displays of paintings and sculpture. Of religion 
there is nothing but a splendid shadow. On the Sabbath 
there is nothing of it ; it is converted to their gayest 
holiday. Of vice and dissoluteness in other respects, 
there is a fearful amount. The prints that are exposed 
in the most public manner — the statues and paintings, 
breathe the most licentious spirit. But such a state of 
society carries its own antidote with it, to the well ordered 
mind ; for if one has a christian heart, he will soften 
with pity ; he will retire for prayer, and angelic spirits 
will then guard his steps. 

I have visited this day the celebrated cemetery of Pere 
la Chaise, and though the day was unfavorable, and my 
time limited, I will give a brief account of it. The day 
was unsettled. I should not have selected it, but the 
celebrated Cuvier, so long an ornament to the literary 
world, having departed this life on Sunday last, was to 
be interred in the afternoon. Pere la Chaise, though 
connected with the city, is about three miles from the 
Hotel de Ville. It occupies a beautiful and command- 
ing eminence just on the skirts of the city. As I 
hurried along the Rue de la Roquette ; 1 passed 
great numbers of stone-cutters' shops, where were 
urns, croziers, statues, and monumental marbles, 
that indicated the nearness of the sacred garden. — 
As I came nearer, the white shafts and little chapels and 
simple urns were here and there seen peeping up from 
the green shrubbery, variegated by the lilac, and by 



240 JOURNAL. 

trees sprinkled over with white and crimson blossoms. 
At the gate I was accosted by a group of little French 
and Swiss children holding chaplets of roses and of arti- 
ficial flowers, with " Please buy my sweet flowers?" 
" You will take a chaplet for your dear friend V " See, 
sir, how fresh ! " &,c. I entered. A beautiful gravel 
walk extended before me. On each side of this, thickly 
sheltered by the mourning fir, the cypress and willow, 
decked with chaplets, with a few simple flowers grow- 
ing at the base, were shafts and columns, on which were 
inscribed the names of the departed, and a few lines 
commemorating their history and virtues. You passed 
along by the sides of these, to others behind them, by 
gently removing the overarching boughs. At the end of 
this broad avenue, two other wide walks conducted you 
off to the right and left, running along the base of the 
hill, around which they wound. From these walks, 
paths wound in various places, up the hill side, each spot 
of which was occupied with some attractive and tasty 
marble, or by some touching and affectionate sentiment. 
Here I stopped to see the honeysuckle, and rose, and 
violet, striving with chaplets of roses, and the graceful, 
clustering vine, to throw a charm over the snowy but cold 
marble, as if to hide or soften the desolateness of the 
grave. Here I stopped to turn back my admiring eye 
upon the splendors of the city, which in despite of cloud 
and shade, failed not to fill me with stirring sensations. 
There are certain spots that every stranger of course 
visits; spots connected with the politics and literature and 
feeling of the country, such as the graves of Abelard 
and Eloise, Fontaine, &c. 

As the procession of Baron Cuvier had not entered 
the place, I sought out Abelard's grave, so interesting 
in the history of feeling and poetry. I easily found it, 



JOURNAL. 241 

on inquiry. It was an open temple, surrounded by a 
simple paling. On a raised altar were laid the full length 
figures of the interesting pair, sculptured in the^ dress of 
the period in which they lived. Around them was scat- 
tered a thousand garlands, the tribute of their affectionate 
admirers. Within the paling, the rose and violet grew 
in rich profusion, untouched by vulgar hands, for every- 
thing remains a sacred deposit, which grows, or is left in 
this hallowed retreat. 

Leaving this spot, I once more returned to the open 
grave of Cuvier. It was raining, but a crowd of respect- 
ful persons were waiting the arrival of the procession. 
After a short time, it came. The members of the Insti- 
tute, and various other societies of which he was an 
honored member, drew near, dressed in a becoming 
uniform, blue, trimmed with silk flowers, and chapeaux 
with small ostrich plumes of black. The coffin, which 
was of strong white oak, or some such wood, firmly 
clasped with iron, being let down into the grave, the 
Lutheran clergyman, for Cuvier was a Protestant, made 
a prayer. After this, not less than seven or eight 
eulogies, short, but highly commendatory, were pro- 
nounced by members of different societies, after which, 
being about five, the grave was closed and I returned 
home. 

Upon my return I seized the first opportunity I have 
enjoyed, of speaking on the subject of religion to a 
Frenchman. I embraced it to converse with a philoso- 
pher of the Institute, who lives with us, and who reads 
English well. I found that he despised the superstitions 
of the Catholics, and respected the bible, and spoke in 
high terms of the providence of God. I told him I ad- 
mired his works in providence much, but those in grace 
more ; and then went on to explain them ; that is, the 
21 



242 JOURNAL. 

salvation through Christ, by the holy spirit. He listened 
very attentively, but said little, only expressing surprise 
at my metaphysical knowledge and clearness. I told 
him that on all that was essential in these matters, a child 
could be equally clear ; that the bible, framed by God, 
was exactly fitted to the philosophy of man ; man of every 
age and condition. I then told him the feelings which 
Christians in every part of the world had for France, and 
my belief that the bible would eventually be read in every 
house. " Perhaps it will," said he, " but there is now 
much reason to doubt it." 

Saturday, May 19. This day has been one of great 
commotion in Paris. The celebrated Casemir Perrier, 
with all the honors and splendor which but bring out into 
stronger relief the mortality of man, was conveyed to his 
last home. At an early hour, about eleven, I proceeded 
to the Boulevards. A crowd had already assembled. 
Bazars, windows, terraces and side walks were crowd- 
ed, but with anything but the expectants of a funeral. 
Surely I never saw a more smiling assemblage ; every- 
body was in excellent humor ; not a sober face, except 
at some of the tables, where taking most gravely their 
beer or wine, the politicians gazed with solemn earnestness 
into the aiTairs England's cabinet. There was to be seen 
the cold headed octogenarian, an isolated remnant of the 
powdered gentleman of the last century ; the whiskered 
and mustachoed gentleman of the present ; the red pan- 
talooned soldier, the more burgeois looking citizen, the 
unwashed artisan, and the — I was going to say very 
polite beggar, but I saw none on the ground — some 
sitting, some strolling, but all chatting and grinning and 
bowing in high spirits. The scene was a fine one. 
The heaven was brightly blue, with here and there a 
snowy cloud on its bosom. The bright sunlight falling 



JOURNAL. 243 

and moving on this great assembly and on the fine white 
stucco edifices, gave a fine appearance to the scene. It 
was long before the procession passed, so that much 
time was afforded for examining the bazars and shop 
windows, and in gazing at the peculiarities of fashion 
and dress. Now passed two holy sisters in black, 
wearing on their heads most curious contrivances made 
of white linen ; the crown of the head was covered 
with a very small kind of hood, and from this diverged 
in every direction a monstrous brim, shading their not 
very nun-like faces. Here some laughing misses, from 
service, with their well combed hair tightly covered over 
with a linen or lace cap would flaunt by, with their 
wings of lace spreading outward, in every direction, 
the very opposite of the good sisters before them. There 
would come a regiment of caps, literally caps, as tall as 
those of the day of queen Bess, tossing up to and fro in the 
crowd. It was long before the procession passed ; at 
length, however, a cavalcade of horse came up the Boul- 
evards to announce it, And presently the swelling 
crowd came moving on before it. Never was there a 
more imposing scene; even for France it was unusual, 
for it is fifty years since an officer has died holding this 
station, the funeral rites of which are most grand. To 
attempt to describe the procession would demand more 
time than I can spare, for I do not know for how many 
hours, regiments of cavalry, of the line, of the national 
guard ; and carriages of princes and priests, and gentle- 
men, were passing me. At length I fell into the proces- 
sion and marched up to the cemetery. I was within one 
hundred yards of the gate, when I heard some shouts 
and screams, and soon we were in fine confusion, guns, 
and bayonets, and swords, and canes, slashing and cut- 
ing in every direction ; men running and women almost 



244 JOURNAL. 

distracted, and I each moment expecting to be uncere- 
moniously bayoneted by these ferocious-looking fellows ; 
however it became quiet ; but what caused it, or whether 
any persons were injured I could not learn ; if there 
were one or two cut a little, nobody would have regarded 
it. I decided as the crowd was so immense not to enter 
the cemetery, and therefore secured as good a station as 
was in my power on the outside ; it is true not much was 
to be seen, but more would not have been commanded 
within ; and truly the scene resembled more a battle 
than a funeral; for an hour or two this immense army, 
occupying all parts of the vast grounds, lining every alley 
and avenue, were to be seen with their tossing plumes 
and banners surmounted with the eagle, the whole 
ground glistening with their fire-arms ; and then the 
clangor of the cavalry, the terrible and incessant dis- 
charge of muskets and cannon, the ring of the ramrod, 
and bray of the trumpet, the noise of shouting and 
music all combined to give the scene more the resem- 
blance of a battle than a funeral. 

Went also to St Cloud. The gardens and walks are 
on the most magnificent scale. This was the favorite 
seat of Napoleon. Here was the centre of his diplomacy. 
On a very high hill, about a fourth of a mile from his 
house, exactly facing his bed-room window, (formed from 
a single piece of glass,) stands his celebrated beacon. It 
is about sixty or seventy feet high, square, constructed of 
white stone. With this he communicated with his min- 
isters in Paris. When the light in his chamber was ex- 
tinguished, this was also. And whenever the red flame 
ceased to burn here, it was known in Paris that he would 
see neither Lord or Prince. That light must again 
burn before his presence could be approached. St Cloud 



JOURNAL. 245 

itself is not very large, when compared with Versailles, 
and some other French palaces — but everything is neat 
and elegant. Unfortunately, some of the younger mem- 
bers of the royal family were present, so it was impossi- 
ble to enter its walls. Passed the stables of the king — 
one or two hundred horses and their grooms were in the 
yard. 

Monday, May 28. Visited St Denis. When entering 
the town, met the King and his splendid suite on their 
way to meet Leopold. He was in a splendid coach and 
six, accompanied by a number of carriages, and escorted 
by a regiment of cavalry. He was met in St Denis by 
the regiments stationed there, w T ho paid him many and 
loud salutes as he passed. In the evening, called on 
the Rev. Mr Monode. Conversed respecting the state 
of France, and the propriety of sending there American 
missionaries. He was decidedly opposed to it, thinking 
the money could be much better expended on French 
ministers, whenever well qualified, and desirous to preach, 
but had not the means. 

Wednesday. Went to Versailles. The splendor of 
the palaces and gardens is altogether beyond description. 
The extent of the gardens; the beauty of the fountains ; 
the length, number, and variety of the avenues ; the 
size and architectural splendor of the palaces ; the rich- 
ness of their furniture ; the brightness of their mirrors ; 
the perfection of their statuary and paintings, all display 
monarchical magnificence. 

Friday, June 1. Visited the extensive royal library. 
Here one sees no less than eight hundred thousand vol- 
umes, seventy two thousand manuscripts, five thousand 
volumes of engravings, and a rich collection of coins. 
Called on J. Fenimore Cooper the novelist ; found him to 
be a very agreeable person ; passed an hour at his house ; 
21* 



246 JOURNAL. 

saw his lady and daughters ; then walked with him to 
the gallery of the Louvre. 

Saturday, June 2. Rode to Passay, where Benjamin 
Franklin resided, and though we found the street, we 
could not find the house. However, we had the satisfac- 
tion on entering the barrier, to find that it was dignified 
by the name of the distinguished philosopher. At the 
barrier, which is one of the iron gates at the entrance 
of the city, we saw the police inserting their rods of iron 
into the wagons of hay as they entered the city, to pre- 
vent the smuggling of wine, &c. As a matter of form, 
they threw up the front of our cab as we rode on. 

Sunday, June 3. In the morning, went with Mr S. to 
the English Church, Champ Elysees. Enjoyed a most 
excellent and pungent discourse from Mr Lovet. The 
day was unpleasant, but the house was quite full. It was 
communion day, and we remained. The services were 
new to me. Much as I have attended the Episcopal 
Church, I was never before present on that interesting 
occasion. It was a pleasant season. The form was new, 
and I felt as if once more solemnly entering on my cove- 
nant vows. I was with a christian friend. I was in, I 
may well say, a heathen land. I trust that its influence 
will prove good to my souL In the afternoon we judged 
it advisable to hold a prayer meeting, as Mr Wilkes was 
not at that time able to preach. The meeting was 
agreeable and refreshing. There we were, a little band 
of twelve or thirteen, in the heart of this great and disso- 
lute city ; but God was with us. In the evening, we went 
to one of the French churches. It was in the school 
room, where they are doing so much good with the chil- 
dren. It is capable of holding four hundred hearers — 
about one hundred and fifty were present. The cholera 
and the season reduces the number. We had an excel- 



JOURNAL. 247 

lent sermon. The audience was exceedingly attentive. 
The associations and feelings which crowded my mind, 
were very gratifying to me. 

Monday, June 4. Everybody seems full of the Vendee 
affair. The cafes are full of the matter, but it appears 
to destroy no man's appetite. Yet after all, Paris is re- 
markably quiet, considering that the country is in a state 
of civil war. 

Tuesday, June 5. Went to the Boulevards, to see the 
funeral procession of Gen. Lamarque. As he was a 
liberal, it was expected that the concourse would be very 
large. It was preceded by an immense crowd of the 
lower orders, decorated with yellow flowers, and formed 
in regular ranks, of the width of the Boulevards, Troops 
of various kinds followed, distinguished officers, &c. At 
length, the hearse, covered with banners, and the crape, 
rich with silver, was seen at a considerable distance, 
slowly approaching, surrounded by a vast mass of heads. 
As they rolled on towards where I was, I perceived that 
they had hold of ropes, by which they were dragging it 
in triumph along. Soon, the emigrants and strangers 
from all countries came on, and after them, the young 
men of the Polytechnic and other schools. The cries of 
"Vive la liberte " increased as they approached, and it 
soon became quite evident, from the manner in which 
they greeted, and were greeted by the crowd, that the 
day would not terminate in tranquillity. As I was leav- 
ing the Boulevards, filled with these thoughts, I met Mr 
T. We decided to go down to the river. As we pass- 
ed the Louvre, the iron gates were closed, and the square 
was crowded with soldiers. By the Hotel de Ville, we 
passed a regiment of cuirassiers, and of infantry. As we 
came down by the Pont Austerlitz, we saw the crowd 
drawn up on a rising ground, while the shouts and shot 



248 JOURNAL. 

on the other side, gave evidence that the contest had 
commenced. We had waited but a few moments, when 
we saw the regiment of cuirassiers coming down to the 
attack. We moved in great haste up the river, to the 
next bridge, to witness the contest. They trotted briskly 
by us, with their long drawn swords glittering fearfully. 
We had scarce arrived at the next bridge, before they 
came upon the crowd. A short distance before it, they 
halted ; in a moment, they were greeted by a dark shower 
of stones, boards, clubs, &c. For a time, the conflict 
seemed of doubtful issue, but presently a quick fire com- 
menced in the rear of the crowd, and they were seen 
rushing in dense masses across the bridge, and to the 
boats by the river side. In the meantime, our crowd had 
increased to a considerable number, so that a detachment 
was sent to clear the bridge, and as the people began to 
fly, we deemed it necessary to retire with them. As we 
returned down the quay, the shops were fast closing, the 
streets and windows filling with anxious faces, and the 
whole place began to assume the appearance of a city 
forced by the enemy. From hence we proceeded to the 
Boulevards. The troops were patrolling up and down. 
The shops were closed. But notwithstanding, men and 
women were collected in crowds, to see what was to en- 
sue. Having dined, we walked up to a regiment of cui- 
rassiers, who were in order for a charge. Presently the 
crowd thickened in their front, and in less than two min- 
utes, they had up a barrier. This was the signal for a 
charge; the cavalry began to move, and presently a regi- 
ment of infantry of the line, were enfiladed through 
them, on a quick trot. In two minutes they commenced 
a fire upon the crowd, which, as it appeared to be return- 
ed, and as the troops began to disperse us, rendered it 
necessary that we should again move. We went through 



JOURNAL. 249 

several streets occupied by soldiers, to the Pont de Neuf, 
where were some strong detachments. These, I believe, 
had just had an engagement. From hence, as the shades 
of night were falling, I deemed it wise to retire for 
home. 

There can scarce be a doubt, from the number and 
discipline of the troops, but that the whole will be quelled, 
If there is to be change, things are not ready for it, 
Much firing during the night. 



CHAPTER XV. 

French Language — Review of National Guard — Garden of the Tuil- 
eries — The Institute — Rue St Honore — Shows — Say — Fourth of 
July — Chateau de St Germain — A Week at La Grange — Leaves 
Paris. 

Paris, June 15. I regret that I was not more famil- 
iar with the French language, when I came ; my imper- 
fect knowledge of it threw some difficulties in my way ; 
but I begin to surmount them. Still I find it more 
trying than I had supposed. This arises from the nature 
of its pronunciation, and the rapidity of French utter- 
ance. At first it was impossible to separate one word 
from another. Now I do this with more facility. By 
attending their lectures ; by practising with a master ; 
by hearing as much conversation as possible ; and by a 
number of hours' hard study each day, I hope to accom- 
plish something before I leave. Everybody recommends 
the theatre as the only place to learn to converse in 
French, but I am determined not to learn the language 
there. 

Paris has become perfectly tranquil. It would be in- 
credible to a stranger entering the city, which has now 
resumed all its gayety, that these pleasant places were so 
recently filled with fierce combatants. But their whole 
history shows that they are as volatile and changeable as 



JOURNAL. 251 

the wind. I am more and more convinced of the effects 
of climate on national character. I feel that it is perfectly 
proper to say the physical character as well as the moral 
character of the people. By the physical character I 
mean the effects which the food, the scenery, and the 
climate of a country exerts through the body, upon the 
mental capacities of its inhabitants. 

In reward for the services which had been rendered 
him by the National Guard and troops of the line, it was 
proclaimed on Friday that the King would make a 
general review of the troops on the ensuing Sabbath. 
This is their favorite day for all displays. The Emperor 
Napoleon in one of his edicts, particularly recommended 
that the first Sabbath of the month should be appropriated 
to re views. The review was ordered for the Boulevards, I 
did not therefore expect to see it, as I intended to go to 
the Champs Elysees to church. However when I came 
up to Champs Elysees, I found that it was crowded with 
troops. For the immense semicircle of the Boulevards, 
running from the Place de la Bastille, to the Place de 
Louis XVI., not proving sufficiently large to contain 
them, they stretched the whole length of the Champs 
Elysees and the avenue to the Arc d'Etoile. This last line 
at least a mile and an half in length consisted of the 
most splendid regiments of cavalry, drawn up two deep 
on each side of the grand avenue. It was a most impos- 
ing sight, as they sat there covered with their brazen or 
iron armor, the black hair waving from their helmets, 
the long lances of the " Lancers," adorned with little 
banners, their swords clanging with the restless motion 
of their horses. Just as I was about to enter the church, 
the king, greeted by a thousand shouts, and surrounded 
by a very numerous train of generals and staff officers, 
passed by. I had a very good place to view the approach 



252 



JOURNAL. 






of the monarch. This affair was kept up from early in 
the morning until near four o'clock. The city resound- 
ed with drums and music ; the streets were crowded 
with women and children ; indeed I scarce believe that 
a well person could be found at home ; games, shows, 
wine, &c, were unusually plenteous. 

June 16. Went to the Garden of the Tuileries. 
As the sun is once more appearing after many days 
of rain, this beautiful place begins to be thronged with the 
volatile crowds of Paris. I am now sitting under a wall 
beautifully trained over with a vine, where a hundred 
groups, engaged in various pursuits, are around me. 
Here is the old citizen, with his large-eyed glasses por- 
ing over the news " Le National." Here some old 
soldier in his plain blue dress with red trimmings and 
his high chapeau, ornamented with white tape and a 
cockade, leans on his stick, graciously eyeing the sports 
of the multitude. Here are fifty lines of happy children, 
two twirling a rope while a third jumps over it; others 
full of smiles, compliments, and conversation, occupy the 
time ; none are solitary now but myself. 

I do not know a prettier spectacle, than French 
children at play. They are so well dressed, so neat, so 
polite, so easy. There are now before me four. Two 
of them wear little well brushed white hats, blue, pointed 
jackets, with sleeves full and plaited at the top, and 
small and neat at the bottom. The others differed only 
by a black hat and cap. But their shirt ruffles were 
very pretty, white, nicely plaited, and rising like stand- 
ing collars. A ribbon tied neatly round them, rather 
added to their simplicity. They were playing with all 
the liveliness of innocent childhood, and as they came 
prancing up and down the alleys enjoyed no little share 
of attention. 



JOURNAL. 253 

June 12. Went to the Institute, and attended one of their 
meetings. It was- three o'clock when we entered. The 
hall was closely filled from floor to the gallery, and from 
the gallery to the ceiling, with books. Around the room 
inclosing the other tables and desks was a narrow table, 
at which were seated the members of the Institute. In 
the window seats, and by the wall, was a numerous 
and attentive crowd. The President was an odd look- 
ing little man, with a little black velvet cap running up 
to a peak. On his large long nose he wore a monstrous 
pair of spectacles, the dark stained glasses of which 
completely barricaded his wrinkled face ; his mouth, 
however, was large, and when the under lip fell down 
and displayed his white teeth, his whole face became 
very expressive. The members appeared to be all men 
considerably advanced in years. 

Tuesday, June. You cannot look a moment into 
the Rue St Honore, without being amused. There is 
such a stream of novelty passing by. Here runs a woman 
with her hands full of umbrellas ; another with flowers ; 
a third with watch chains, rings, and all manner of 
trinkets ; and many more with their short red or blue 
gowns, their nice ruffles or handkerchiefs, and over all 
their far-spreading caps, saluting the crowd with their 
various persuasions. By their side are running the busy 
porters. There goes a fellow in a blue cap and jerkin 
laden with an immense package which is attached to a 
kind of truck ; while another with a tin castle flying 
with banners, follows with the most attractive tinkle, tin- 
kle, tinkle. Now he shakes his bell under the mustaches 
of a thirsty, and fierce-looking militaire ; now more gently 
among the panoply of ribbons in the throng. And what 
a crowd of cars ! there goes, with many a crack and shout, 
and whistle, the noisy cab — the dusty coach of antique 
22 



254 JOURNAL. 

shape — the ponderous car with five or six horses, groan- 
ing under their weighty decorations, by which, and their 
immense painted and shield-like collar, the little animals 
are almost hidden — off they go with a great clatter. 
Now here comes unwillingly along, a little donkey, 
whose masculine mistress is flogging and shouting most 
cavalierly, ever and anon holding up her vegetables, and 
vociferating in terms not the most persuasive, to the open 
windows or the hurrying crowd. There goes a fiddler 
with dogs and monkeys — there a man with a cargo of 
cats and kittens, and a collection of most fantastically 
shaved dogs. Now pass a troop of guards, to the beat of 
a monotonous drum. 

Never was a people more volatile than the French. If 
there is anything to be seen, there are always enough to 
see it; if anything to be said, to hear it. This makes 
Paris, of all others the place of sights and sounds. Be- 
sides the theatres and shows, one has only to walk the 
streets a short time, to find some wandering showman 
attracting the gazing crowd. A day or two since, I 
heard the jarring strings of a French fiddle. I stopped 
to see what had caught the laughing crowd. I was not 
a little amused at what T saw. Indeed I think if some of 
my young friends at home had been present, they would 
have laughed heartily; for there on a little round table, 
slashing his trunk this way and that, and moving his feet 
with great dignity, stalked a little elephant, bearing on his 
back a castle, and adorned with all the trappings of east- 
ern state. Next came a little fat lady, turning this way 
and that, and mincing around the table, while all the 
time she played upon a little fiddle. Then came a 
woolly-haired buxom black, with her gown held nicely 
up, while she went dancing round to the strains of the 
lady-musician. 



JOURNAL. %5o 

Wednesday. In company with Mr B. attended the 
lecture of the celebrated Say. He is a small man, 
his features are irregular and not very agreeable. His 
dark brown hair curls slightly over his forehead. His 
voice is not strong, but he reads with much energy, his 
motions like those of most French Professors, being those 
of a very nervous temperament. He was surrounded by 
many attentive hearers, among whom was one lady. His 
lecture was on " the limits of population. " It terminated 
with a burst of applause from his auditors. 

In the evening the Boulevards were gaily lighted, the 
cafes streaming with brightness. The walks were 
thronged, the theatres surrounded by the entering par- 
ties. The shops and shows, arcades and windows, blazed 
with finery. How different a scene from the last evening 
I was there; when the place was thronged with fierce 
combatants ; the shops closed, the lamps extinguished ; 
nothing heard but the martial music, the clang and tramp 
of the cavalry, the fusilade of the infantry, and the shouts 
of the contending parties. How long before this gay 
scene will partake of a darker character, I cannot say ; 
but long it cannot be. All over France are the signs of 
agitation and burning, which precede a moral volcano* 
God grant that it may not burst with desolation over the 
wretched land, terminating in blood, without the attain- 
ment of the blessings they desire. 

Yesterday was the fourth of July. The day was cele- 
brated in Paris by the Americans in the usual manner ; 
that is to say, by a national dinner. About seventy or 
eighty gentlemen were present, among whom were Gene- 
ral La Fayette, his son and grandson, General Bernard, 
who assisted us in the last war ; Mr Reeves, Cooper, 
&c. As it was given at the celebrated " Lointier's," of 
course everything was in great style. The courses and 



256 JOURNAL. 

cooking were all French, but the spirit which prevailed 
was American, as was fully evinced by the toasts. I had 
the honor of being introduced to General La Fayette, 
but had not an opportunity of conversing with him. As 
I gazed once more on this hoary old soldier, I was forci- 
bly reminded of the day when I saw the interview at my 
own fireside, between him and his old revolutionary 
friend and comrade, my late dear grandfather, General 
Hull. He has not altered much since he was in America, 
in his personal appearance. The occasion filled him 
with enthusiasm. He was buoyant with delight. When 
the president, cheered by the most animating expres- 
sions of sympathy from the whole company, proposed the 
health of the General, with a just and appropriate speech, 
the old veteran's countenance displayed the thrill of 
pleasure, which the snows of eighty winters could not 
still within his beating bosom ; his reply was eloquent 
and feeling. It breathed the spirit which has marked 
every action in his dignified and distinguished career. I 
cannot express my feelings, as I stood before an individ- 
ual who has exerted such a powerful influence over the 
destinies of two great nations. 

Saturday. Visited the celebrated Chateau de St 
Germain. This is situated about four leagues from Paris. 
The ride is exceedingly pleasanl. You leave the city by 
the Barrier Arc d'Etoile, where the noble triumphal 
arch of Napoleon stands, nearly completed. There is a 
grand simplicity in this monument, which assimilates 
well with the character of Napoleon. In this, and 
Column Vendome, you see the man ; while the elegance 
of the Arc du Carousel, rather reminds you of the family 
of the Bourbons. You look in vain among its clustered 
pillars and marbles, for the masculine genius, the severe 
taste of the great Emperor. 



JOURNAL. 25? 

On the way to St Germain, you do not fail to see the 
displays of his genius, in the direct and noble road, and 
in the splendid steam engine house by which he supplied 
the Roman-like acqueduct of Louis XIV. As you see it 
running with its thousand arches over hills and valleys, 
miles distant, you at first suppose it the relic of those 
early and illustrious architects. Discovering your mis- 
take, you are at once certain that the achievement of 
such an enterprise belonged either to Louis or Napoleon 
le Grand. It was erected by Louis at an immense ex- 
pense to supply his splendid gardens and fountains, as 
well as the town of Versailles, with water. The land- 
scape is more varied in this than many other directions. 
Here you see Malmaison, and the little antique church 
spire, where Josephine was interred. You pass some 
pretty villages, while villas deeply embosomed in trees, 
by their lightness and grace, give a softness to the scene. 
There is something very picture-like in a French villa. 
Its light iron gate-way is pointed with gilded spears. Its 
walls hang with vines, while here and there a rose bush 
blushes among the green shrubbery that luxuriates be- 
hind. Through the trees you see the trim villa, with its 
steep roof and gable attic windows. This, with the 
bright yellow of its stone or stucco-work, and the pale 
lead-colored blinds and trellises, together with the trim- 
ness of some of the trees, the neatness of the scene, and 
the brightness of the green, give it no little resemblance 
to a painting. 

St Germain is rather a desolate looking place. Some 
of the streets, it is true, were sufficiently dirty and noisy. 
Its inhabitants generally appeared squalid and filthy. 
As usual, however, there was no want of soldiers. They 
were to be seen on every side. We proceeded to the 
Chateau. It was a venerable building, surrounded by a 
22* 



258 JOURNAL. 

deep, but at present, dry trench. Its air was antique. 
The lower part was built of stone, the upper part of a 
dark brick, curiously ornamented along the angles, and 
round the windows, by bricks of a brighter color, stand- 
ing out about an inch from the plain wall. We entered 
its courts. It appeared desolate. However, a little girl 
came running to us, with a large bunch of keys. Having 
looked round the yard, which had towers at three of its 
angles, we entered the old pile. Winding up a stone 
stair-case, we came to a door which opened into a large 
and cheerless hall. In the days of its splendor, when 
knights, nobles and ladies, with the brazen and barbarian 
magnificence of their times, came to make the royal sa- 
lutation, it must have been but gloomy and stern ; for the 
light that pierced its small dark windows, could only add 
but little cheerfulness to the floor of oak and tile, and to 
the heavy and rude pointed arches that supported the 
rough ceiling. From this place we were conducted 
through long suits of desolate and unfurnished apart- 
ments, which were fast falling to ruin. We were shown 
in particular, the apartments where the unfortunate 
James II. lived and died, after his expulsion from 
Britain : also to the room and secret stair-way, (now a 
closet) by which Louis XIV. when a boy, used to steal 
up to the apartments of Madame Vallier ; and the room 
in which his mother confined him, to prevent such tricks. 
Everything here is of a different age, from the deep set 
foundation, up to the antique and crumbling towers and 
turrets ; on one of which I saw, far above the reach of 
human hand, a beech tree growing greenly. One is 
much struck in visiting this palace, with the feeling, that 
he sees here the termination of barbarian grandeur — the 
last point between one epoch, and that which spread ele- 
gance and splendor over the public buildings of France. 



JOURNAL. 259 

Louis left it, not to leave St Denis behind him, but that 
he might leave a hitherto unknown magnificence after 
him. 

Tuesday Afternoon. Visited the Pantheon. This 
church is esteemed one of the finest buildings in Paris. 
It certainly would claim great praise if it was adapted to 
a useful purpose. But as a national monument it is 
grand. It occupies one of the highest situations in 
Paris. This gives its towering dome a lofty and noble 
appearance not only from the environs but from many 
parts of the city. Its front is adorned by a colonnade of 
high and elegant Corinthian columns. Its interior may 
be divided into two long aisles, intersecting each other in 
the fine circle which in the centre receives the soft light 
from the high dome. The whole pavement is formed of 
mosaic in marble. It is in the beautiful circle that you 
stand enraptured, for how firmly do the solid pillars rise to 
support the immense arches, on which rests the embla- 
zoned circle, from which the lofty dome with a soft 
curve rolls up its pictured surface, as if to terminate its 
melting lines in the bosom of heaven. What effect .' 
In the vastness, what a tumult of expanding feeling ! 
The spirit, from the narrow habitation of prejudice, from 
the memory of little places and limited localities, rejoices 
to start forth in the enjoyment of a freedom so conge- 
nial with its nature, into a kind of semblance of those 
sublime realities which it fondly, but in vain, pants after, 
in this world of little men and little things. 

Paris, July 17. A part of last week I passed with 
General La Fayette, at his delightful seat at La Grange. 
La Grange is situated about thirty miles from Paris. 
The diligence leaves Paris at eight o'clock in the morn- 
ing and arrives at Rosoy," which is a small town about 
twenty minutes' walk from La Grange, at three P. M. 



260 JOURNAL. 

Fortunately the General's Secretary was in the dili- 
gence with me ; not the one however that was in Ame- 
rica with him. I accompanied him through the beauti- 
ful park by which the house is surrounded, and which is 
laid out in the most picturesque manner, to the chateau. 
At length we reached the avenue from which the gray 
towers overgrown with ivy, with their dark gateway, is 
seen. The engraving of this is excellent except that 
no picture can do it justice. Passing over the fosse 
and under the gateway we entered a square, flanked by 
two towers ; the walls of the chateau enclosing a square 
on three sides, the other opening into the beautiful park. 
Crossing the square we entered the hall of the chateau. 
Here a pair of elegant brass field pieces, bearing the 
inscription, " Presented to General La Fayette by the Pa- 
risian people, 3d August, 1830," recalls to mind some of 
the great scenes in which the General has been so con- 
spicuous an actor. You pass on — you are upon the 
stair-way. An American will not be long in recog- 
nising Virginia in the fine map before him. It was pre- 
sented to the General by the Legislature of that State. 
And there South America and the United States ! But 
turn round. What a noble semicircle of flags ! those 
are no holiday banners. They have each waved where 
the sword and bayonet glanced brightly. See ; that was 
the banner of the Swiss body guard ! that was grasped 
by the dying hand of the gallant but unfortunate Arcole ! 
And there are the bright stars of the American standard. 
How honorable a cluster. They are the standards of 
three revolutions, of two great nations. You stand in 
the hall of a Brutus ! You do more ! in the hall of 
" Libertas." This hall which we enter on the left, how 
beautiful, more, how honorable to its master ! It is dec- 
orated with a nation's gifts. On this side you see busts 



JOURNAL. 261 

of Adams and Jackson, the farewell address of General 
Washington and the Declaration of Independence. From 
the opposite you look through the large windows upon 
the fine park below. Another side has the portraits of 
Washington and Franklin, between which is suspended 
a large flag which decorated the mast of the Brandy wine. 
Opposite you see a picture of the old Bastile, which the as- 
saulters are tearing to pieces ; a view of Baltimore and of 
the port in Spain from which he embarked for America, 
on his first noble and disinterested expedition. Crossing 
the saloon, you enter a large parlor which takes its shape 
from the round tower in which it is situated. Here as in 
the former apartment everything reminds me of the 
services which he has rendered to our country. I was 
here introduced to his daughter, Madame Maubough, who 
welcomed me most warmly to La Grange. The General 
had not then arrived from Paris, but was to be there at 
six o'clock. After some conversation on America, part 
English, part French, the servant showed me my 
room. A fine mirror hung over its marble fire-place ; the 
window, curtained with white, overhung with rich crim- 
son festoons, looked out into the court yard. The 
bed which was in the recess was covered and curtain- 
ed with flowered crimson satin. At six the General 
arrived. He was accompanied by his aid-de-camp. 
He greeted me very warmly. At about seven we sat 
down to dine. A grand-daughter of the General was at 
the table, certainly the most interesting, modest, and re- 
fined young lady that I have met in France. The 
General lives in great style at La Grange. Three ser- 
vants waited at the table, which was covered with the 
most delicate viands. The General was active and 
affable ; we walked out into the park after dinner for an 
hour, after which we conversed till nearly twelve respect- 



262 JOURNAL. 

ing Boston and America. I remained with him until 
Saturday, when he was very reluctant to have me part 
from La Grange. Before going I presented him with a 
copy of my grandfather's memoirs. He appeared pleased 
with the change that had taken place with respect 
to the unfortunate affair of 1812. He remembered 
him as an accomplished and gallant officer. " Few na- 
tions would have the frankness to confess that their con- 
duct had, in a single instance, been wrong or impolitic ; 
nothing was more honorable than such avowals." — 
I confess that I feel proud of my much-injured grand- 
father, as well as of his brave nephew, the conqueror of 
the Guerriere. Notwithstanding the early hour at which 
I came away the General insisted on seeing me before my 
departure. I was ushered to his library, where I found 
him in his morning dress. He shew me a number of 
pictures here and in his bed room — among others, Wash- 
ington himself and a group of other officers at the siege 
of Yorktowrt. A view of Mr Quincy's seat, Governor 
Hancock's house, which he occupied in the revolution, 
four by Miss Eliza Quincy, and several others — a beau- 
tiful silver vase presented by the Midshipmen of the 
Brandywine. After having given me a very gratifying 
invitation to visit him again and pass some weeks with 
him, if I returned through France, he said " God bless 
you, Adieu, Adieu ! " and we parted. 



CHAPTER XVI. 

Route from Paris to Brussels — Brussels — Place Royal — St Gudule — 
King- Leopold — Mr Cooper — - Antwerp — Aix la Chapelle — Cologne 
— The Rhine — Boom — Lake of the Four Cantons — • TelPs Chapel — 
Lake Brieuzer — Interlacken. 

Left Paris for Brussels the nineteenth of July. 

The entire route was unbroken by the slightest un- 
dulation, but the cultivated fields, removed in some 
measure the monotony, by the varying shades of their 
grass, and grain, and herbs ; but at length, even the 
regular recurrence of these, with the long lines of trees 
which skirted the road side, and the recurrence of villa- 
ges, possessing the same mean, contracted, and filthy 
character, gave pain rather than pleasure. However, we 
did pass a few towns, not altogether destitute of interest. 
The first of these was Peronne, an old, and, even now, 
rather strongly fortified town, distinguished as the scene 
of Quentin Durward. 

Friday. At seven, arrived at Mons. Here we re- 
mained about an hour, walking round the town. I 
saw nothing remarkable, except a very high turret, which 
in former ages was probably connected with some mag- 
nificent pile, but which now stood in solitary grandeur, a 
venerable, but mighty and imposing relic of Gothic great- 
ness. This is situated in the Belgian territory, which 
we entered a few hours earlier at Quievrain. Here we 



264 JOURNAL. 

encountered a search, quite vexatious to some of our 
companions, but quite laughable to us. From our trunks 
and country, our object was immediately discovered. 
Not so with some of the others, for having passed our 
things over rather lightly, they pursued their investiga- 
tion more systematically and rigorously, among the trin- 
kets and dresses of some of our companions. One Jew 
in particular, was searched most sharply, while the lace 
dresses of one of our female companions fluttered most 
distressingly in the air. Indeed, all the secrets of false 
curls and rouges, were most unscrupulously brought to 
light, by the obedient servants of King Leopold. We had 
scarce passed the frontiers of Belgium, before we noticed 
a striking difference in the condition and appearance of 
the villages. It is true they were built in the same com- 
pact manner as in France, but an essential change ap- 
pears in the neat white washed fronts of the brick or 
composition walls, the nice stone floors, and the neat 
door-ways. 

On the twentyfirst, we arrived in Brussels. We were 
much gratified at its first appearance. The neatness of 
its markets, its clean streets, the taste of its buildings, 
and the general air of modesty and sobriety which reign- 
ed over the features of its inhabitants. We proceeded to 
the Hotel de Flandre, Place Royal. The Place Royal is 
a fine square, occupied by elegant hotels, and a large and 
handsome church. It stands in the vicinity of the Park, 
which is laid out with considerable taste. The Park 
makes a green and delightful centre to the elegant square, 
where stands the palace of the King, the Prince of Or- 
ange, the Chamber of Deputies, and several other fine 
buildings. The palace, as well as all the houses of Brus- 
sels, are distinguished for an elegant simplicity. It was a 
long brick edifice, stuccoed, with a portico of eight Co- 



JOURNAL. %6o 

rinthian columns. On the other side of the park, direct- 
ly in front of the palace, stands the Chamber of Deputies, 
a handsome, extensive, and palace-like looking buildings 
one wing of which being burnt during the revolution, is 
still in ruins. Though Brussels possesses many elegant 
edifices, it does not owe its interest to their individual 
splendor. It is their fine combination in streets and 
squares, which calls forth admiration. Of course a stranger 
finds no little interest here in its antique square, where the 
Hotel de Ville rises, with niches, and pinnacles, and 
carvings, all stained and dark with time. This cannot 
fail to call up recollections of those days, when superstition 
with its dim and shadowy images, gave to the taste of the 
age a massive indistinctness of design, suited to all the 
other sentiments of the people, and therefore exciting but 
ordinary emotions. But now presenting themselves to 
our regard, who have lived among the sterner realities of 
a philosophic age, and among objects shaped by a very 
different taste, they seem like the visions of a revery, or 
a palace wrapped in mist. This feeling is much more 
marked in visiting St Gudule. As you approach its 
massive front, you are impressed by its height and 
strength. As you draw near, you behold the heavy, 
deep, and low Gothic door-way ; the long lines of light 
and shade, formed by the turrets, which, clinging to the 
gray structure, climb up to its very top ; you see how 
time has eat into the rich carvings, and gnawed the iron 
work over all its surface; but you see that however un- 
congenial with modern architecture, however scathed by 
time, that its giant frame will yet endure the ravages of 
many ages, standing firm, while all that now surrounds 
it, may lie prostrate, a wreck of ruins. It is imposing; 
yes, even on the outside ; but hark ! hear the wild swell 
of music among its high columns and arches — hark ! the 
23 



266 JOURNAL. 

distant bugle — that stirring tone of a martial band. 
Heavy masses of troops are filing down the street. 
Hear the shoutings; " Vive le Roi !" Upon a splendid 
charger, but with simple caparison and simple dress, with 
his aids and staff, King Leopold approaches. It is the 
anniversary day of Belgian liberty. He raises his mili- 
tary chapeau, and bows affably to the greeting crowd. 
He has dismounted. And now the notes of the " Te 
Deum " echo through the lofty aisles and chapels. 
When he came out, I entered. It was indeed both a sin- 
gular and imposing sight. The interior was simple and 
grand; the pillars high and massive ; the cruciform aisles 
lofty; the windows deeply stained ; the light dim and 
chaste ; the altars and pictures softened by the burning ta- 
pers around the consecrated places. All these should be 
solemn and silent. But hark ! along the long aisles, hear 
through every gallery and curving arch of its mighty 
roof, the long, unceasing, stunning roll of the martial 
drum, the regular tramp of armed men on the marble 
pavement. All, how imposing! but see the black cowls 
and cassocks, the crosiers, the saints and virgins! It is^ 
a church. Thus it happened that my arrival was on the 
most opportune occasion possible. 

We next visited the Hotel de Ville. Its interior is 
rude, but modern taste has given splendor to some of its 
halls. Here are preserved some of the richest pieces of 
Brussels tapestry. These are about two hundred years 
old, but many of them preserve the richness and fresh- 
ness of recent executions. They are kept in the council 
and marriage halls ; for it appears that before the reli- 
gious ceremonies of that institution take place, they are 
legally united here. In this building is a noble apart- 
ment, adorned with all the magnificence of gildings, 
chandeliers, velvets, and gold lace, where the royal balls 



JOURNAL. 267 

are held. At one end of the room was the concealed 
orchestra, at the other, the throne of his majesty. From 
this place, we rambled to the lower part of the city, 
where is a fine canal which communicates with the 
Scheldt, near Antwerp. A number of canal boats, of 
more depth than our own, were moored or moving upon it. 

In the evening we had the pleasure of meeting Mr 
Cooper, the celebrated novelist, who with his wife and 
family had arrived in B. He politely invited us to walk 
up and see his lady and family, but we felt too tired, and 
too much out of dress. He pointed out to us his room, 
showing us how the house had been riddled by balls. 
He happened to be there a week after its revolution. His 
room, bed, &,c. were completely cut to pieces by balls. 
He pointed out the house and the Cupids of which he 
speaks in his Heidenmaur. Indeed the whole city bears 
the marks of a severe and protracted contest. 

Sunday, Visited the cathedral. I was surprised 
at the large number of persons present, at their attentive, 
solemn, and devout appearance. They all had prayer- 
books, translated into French. I think the combined 
melody of the organ, a numerous orchestra, and rich-toned 
voices, surpassed anything I ever heard. As from a low, 
faint, distant sound, it increased in compass and rich- 
ness, as its delicious swell poured through the aisles, the 
whole building seemed instinct with life. These services 
were no sooner completed, and the church vacated, than a 
part of a regiment entered, to the beat of martial music. 
With heads uncovered, they halted in the aisles ; while 
to the sound of the drums, four soldiers marched into the 
grand chapel, where they stood with their heavy bearskin 
caps, two on each side of the splendid marble altar. 
Presently a priest and assistant in white, entered and 
administered, or rather received the sacrament. During 



•268 



JOURNAL. 



certain parts of this exercise, the drums rolled, and the 
soldiers bowed down their heads. A few rolls, and the 
service was ended. Whether the soldiers in the streets, 
for not more than half entered, or those in the church 
were most edified, I cannot say ; for not a word was 
spoken by the priest during the whole ceremony. The 
martial music again commenced, and in a few minutes 
the last tramp of the soldiers was heard over the 
threshhold. Such was the worship of war. 

I then proceeded to the Protestant chapel. It was 
beautiful in its interior. The preacher was eloquent and 
persuasive. A black cross was on the table beneath his 
pulpit, before which a waxen taper burned dimly. At 
the door I met Mrs Cooper and two of her daughters. 
She spoke well of the discourse. It was upon redeeming 
love. Mrs C. appears to be a Christian. 

Monday morning we decided to visit Antwerp. With 
this purpose, we took the canal-boat. The sail was 
much of it interesting. The country upon the sides 
more diversified than what we had before seen, though it 
became more level again as we approached Antwerp. 
We passed a number of beautiful villas upon the way, 
with pleasant lawns and summer houses. The canal 
extends only to the Scheldt, near Boom. Its length 
may be about five leagues. From the canal, was 
ferried across the river to Boom — thence rode in the dil- 
igence to Anvers — compelled to go a long distance 
round, to avoid the Dutch, who possessing the citadel 3 
hold the town in a state of siege. 

Visited the grand Napoleon Basins. The design was 
a noble one. In these massive docks, which almost seem 
carved out of the solid rock, the ships of all nations ride 
quietly together, at all times of tide and weather, landing 
and receiving their cargoes with the utmost facility. 



JOURNAL. 269 

Among others, I noticed the American flag, floating 
over a noble ship. 

From here, we walked round the town to view the 
citadel. As we passed through the streets, we found 
barricades in every direction, while all along the docks 
and outskirts of the town, the gabled roofs and stucco- 
work fronts were torn with shot ; indeed, twenty or thirty 
cannon balls were frequently seen sticking in some of the 
houses. 1 noticed the side of a small house which had 
been struck with no less than seventynine cannon balls. 
Here you would see through the corner of a house, here 
through a chimney-top, where some black ball had cut 
its way. We learned that twenty thousand troops garri- 
soned the city, five thousand the citadel. The quays, 
&c. frowned with cannon, and all the implements of 
destruction. We returned by the diligence through Ma- 
lines or Mechlin, so distinguished for its lace; was much 
interested with the appearance of the place. Everything 
was neat and elegant. 

July 24. Left Brussels for Liege. Passed through 
Louvain and Tirlemont. At six, arrived at the Bishopric 
of Liege, where our quarantine commenced. We had 
the privilege of passing our time here, or in the neigh- 
borhood. Three days have now passed away very pleas- 
antly among the antique streets, towers, churches, and 
convents of the bishopric, and its picturesque neighbor- 
hood. Among other places, we have visited the bishop's 
palace, a dark and massive old building, with a heavy 
and gloomy arch-way, with, I think, six Doric columns, 
conducting into a large square with four facades, sup- 
ported by columns of a Saracenic or Egyptian character. 
It was in this place that Scott laid some of the most pow- 
erful scenes of Quentin Durward. From Liege, I proceed 
to Cologne, on the Rhine. 
23* 






270 JOURNAL. 

Left Spa July 30. The early part of the route was 
agreeable, but as soon as we began to approach Aix la 
Chapelle it melted down into tameness. We arrived 
there at two o'clock. The first appearance of the place 
was interesting. This like many of the European towns 
is surrounded by beautiful promenades, where trees laid 
out with taste, form delightful walks for the inhabitants 
during their long and delicious evenings. We visited 
here the celebrated cathedral where the remains of Char- 
lemagne were deposited. A part of the church was 
built by him. The conception was grand and simple, 
partaking of the character of his genius; the spirit of 
the times in which he lived. The marble as well as 
many of the decorations of the place at a great expense 
were brought from Rome. This was in the early part of 
the ninth century, and since that period many additions 
have been made to it ; and once or twice destroyed ; but 
the central part, with the exception of the dome, which 
was destroyed by fire, and of some beautiful marble 
columns carried off by the great European ravager, re- 
main, entire. Here are deposited many celebrated relics, 
which are exhibited once in every seven years. 

Cologne, August 1. I stand in its ancient and impos- 
ing cathedral. Of what is man not capable ! when 1 
behold the extent of this pile ; the massive pillars ; large 
and deep stained windows, the perfection of every curve 
and line through all its parts, how am I made to feel the 
strength of that princip^ which in its false developement 
has led to such an enterprise and execution. When 
rightly directed what can resist its power. From Co- 
logne to Bonn the scenery of the Rhine is rather un- 
interesting. On either side are far extending plains or 
gentle undulations, with frequent towns and villages, with 
their dark walls, (for nearly all the towns are trenched 



JOURNAL. 271 . 

and fortified,) and the houses of the villages compacted 
close together, the whole extent covered with the golden 
harvest or the luxuriant vineyards. As you approach 
Bonn however the horizon is filled up with mountains, 
from the vapory bosom of which the Rhine, swelling with 
pride, appears to gush. From Bonn, which is the seat 
of an interesting university, it is a short and agreeable 
excursion to the Drachenfells and Rolandswerk ; the 
former of which Byron introduces in a beautiful manner 
in his Childe Harold, Canto 3d. Drachenfells is one of 
the first of those old ruins, with which so many of the 
craggy hills of the Rhine are crowned. Seated on the top 
of a towering rock, its high sa x uare towers, in many places 
reft with a giant hardihood, stoop over the shelving rock, 
frowning fiercely on the sunny landscape beneath. But 
its days of power and triumph are over ; for a short walk 
brought us up to its bare and unguarded entrance, and 
silence and solitude only met us, as we wound up its 
defences, with no warder to deny or announce us. We 
entered its large square tower, once the scene of gayety 
and revel. Now one of its massive walls, by the waste of 
time, or the force of man, had sunk down the dark pre- 
cipice beneath, leaving a broad display of mountains, 
with here and there a gray ruin, with the Rhine rolling 
beneath, while the blue heavens and flying clouds high 
above were seen through the unroofed tower. The walls 
of the tower were, built of a strong gray stone and were 
about four feet thick. The view from the other side 
was very extensive, the eye following the winding river 
up the valley, till its diminishing waters like a silver 
thread, are seen curling round the towers of Cologne, 
which are dimly traced on the verge of the northern 
horizon. Turning back to the former view, just below 
on a small piece of intervale, lies a pretty town, and in the 



272 JOURNAL. 

middle of the river, which sweeps by it with a bold 
current, a beautiful island. Here stands a large convent, 
while on the other side, on a rock, is perched the ruins 
of Rolandswerk. On the morrow our sail commenced 
at ten o'clock for Coblentz. It was not peculiarly in- 
teresting, though more so than the day before. But it 
was from Coblentz that the scenery became so remark- 
able. Each moment I was reminded of the day I spent 
upon the Hudson. The same wild hills rose on either 
side, but the high slopes and the ridgy rocks were soften- 
ed down by the luxuriance of the vine, and each peak 
crow T ned by some old castle with all its associations of 
centuries and legends. Up these where the silver mists 
of morning rolled from the ravines, rose the dismantled 
castles, while on the green intervals beneath, stood the 
white villages with their gray walls and turrets. These 
perhaps, give an attraction and romance to the Rhine 
which our bold and beautiful river can never possess ; 
but for all that is grand and impressive in nature, I do 
not hesitate to say that the river of poetry and song falls 
far short of its American rival. But in speaking com- 
paratively of this, it is certainly due to both, to remark 
that each after its own character, is all that the fondest 
lover of the beautiful and sublime would desire. And 
such is the national difference between them, that one 
sensible to the charms of nature would rather pause to 
admire, than begin to compare. The course of the 
Rhine from its constant curves, forms a rapid succession 
of beautiful lakes. In each of these you generally see at 
least an old gray and once formidable castle, on some 
almost inaccessible hill, as its height would cause one to 
suppose, but up which the perseverance of man had built 
a hundred walls to support the scanty earth, in which 
was planted the vineyards which decorate the Rhine. 



JOURNAL. 273 

After leaving Bingen, the Rhine becomes much broad- 
er; the steep overhanging hills melt down into gentle 
undulations, and the stern strongholds disappear from 
the landscape. On every side, cottages and villages 3 
with lawns, and vineyards, and fruit trees, over all which 
the snowy clouds cast their moving shadows, spread out 
their smiling attractions. Through this beautiful scene- 
ry, the Rhine rolls on its course, having some noble 
islands upon its swelling bosom. The passengers in our 
steamboat are scattered in groups about the deck; some 
employed in reading the guide books, studying their 
maps and panoramas, or gazing on the beautiful and 
swift-flying scenery; others in sipping their wine, or 
tranquilly puffing their pipes. Here you see a musia- 
choed militaire, here an agreeable group of Prussian 
gentlemen and ladies, and yonder, the important, grand- 
aired Anglaise, moving through the limited field of trav- 
el in diverse channels.* 

It was one of the loveliest days of August that I as- 
cended the Pvighi. The sun shone with surpassing bright- 
ness over the varied scene. Its grandeur had moreover 
to me the freshness of novelty. I had but lately roamed 
over the softer undulations of the south of Germany, and 
the wild and picturesque had therefore unknown charms 
for my mind. For several hours before reaching its bold 
summit, I had been shut up among the bristling pinna- 
cles that crowd about its ascent, with but an occasional 

* The journal of the tour through Germany and into Switzerland 
was evidently sketched in great haste ; the characters being written 
in pencil, are often almost illegible, and the abbreviations are so nu- 
merous, that it has been impossible to reduce it to a clear and suit- 
able shape, and therefore I have found it necessary to suppress 
much which I would have gladly inserted. Much of the tour in 
Italy also is written in so hasty a manner, that considerable portions 
of it have been necessarily suopressed. Ed. 



274 



JOURNAL. 



glimpse of the valleys beneath, or the snow-capt hills 
above. From what lay around me in my way, I was 
looking only for a wild tumultuous group of rocks and 
mountains more broadly stretched out, when I should 
gain its airy top. But what I now beheld, filled me 
with unmingled delight and amazement. For if on the 
one side rocks and mountains beleaguered the heavens, 
on the other was presented a landscape of indescribable 
softness. The Righi is the battle-line of rocks which 
separates the stern Alps from the softer scenery of Swit- 
zerland. It was just to the edge of this that I had come. 
Thousands of dizzy feet below, softened down from its 
native asperity by the distance, into the gentlest undula- 
tions, lay valleys and hills, spreading off to the north, like 
a wide and beautiful plain, while behind, the whole 
scene was piled up with mountains, and crags, and gla- 
ciers. Beneath, in sleeping loveliness, lay the Lake of 
the Four Cantons; others more remote, were possessed 
of the same heaven-born tranquillity, — while here a sil- 
ver river glided over the plain. Cities and villages are 
strovvn thickly over the scene — their brightness catching 
a new charm from the grand slopes, down which like a 
brood of wild fowl, they came to the very brink of the 
blue and transparent lakes, over which they preside with 
a fairy-like grace. There lay Lucerne — at a greater 
distance Zurich; while here the peaceful chapel of Tell 
contrasted with the grim and smoke-blackened battle- 
ments of the tyrant of Altorf. It was night when I again 
looked on this striking scene. But it was a night of un- 

o to 

common splendor : the vast concave above was bright 
with twinkling stars, while the plain and lakes — the 
mountains and shattered pinnacles, the piles of snow and 
fretted glaciers, were silvered into finer shape by the full 
moon, which through a mass of white clouds had scaled 



JOURNAL. 275 

the highest heaven — and now scattered its light trium- 
phantly over the rejoicing earth. Never did the face of 
nature shine with a loftier intelligence : the whole seem- 
ed teeming with sentient existence. Catching the in- 
spiration of the scene, the philosopher would have ex- 
claimed " this is God ;" the Christian fraught with a 
higher and purer inspiration, filled with a profound reve- 
rence for Him who " established the clouds above," and 
laid the foundations of the hills, would have exclaimed 
with holy ecstacy, " God is here/' and " he made it." 



CHAPTER XVII. 

Mount Blanc — Geneva — Dr Malan ■ — Scenery — Milan — Cathedral — 
Verona — Romeo and Juliet's Tomb —Venice — Greek Church — Pi- 
azza di St Marco — Route from Venice to Bologna — University — 
Veturino — Monte di Fo. 

Mount Blanc. Nothing is more impressive than this 
view. You are shutout from all the world by mountains. 
You look behind you to the east, and there in billowy 
masses rise the mountains in long and knotty chains ; on 
each side are sharp, bleak rocks, while behind, with all 
its boldness of peaks, and brightness of glaciers, Mount 
Blanc, (the mists and clouds, now enveloping, now 
scattered round its top,) towers with imposing grandeur 
over the circling and soft valley at its base. On this spot 
stands a solitary but neat cabin, occupied by two beings, 
with nothing but the wild hills around, and heaven above 
them. This rather adds to, than destroys the unity of 
the scene. How sublime ! It was in the silent contem- 
plation of such a scene, that the philosopher exclaimed, 
who can doubt that " God is the soul of the Universe ? " 
Pernicious as this doctrine undoubtedly is, with that 
depth of sense which seeming to sit upon each peak, and 
with one intelligence, speaking through its light and 
shade, with one feeling connecting the whole together, 
how natural would be the sentiment, had not religion 
passed beyond the limits of philosophy, and bade the 
heart to say, " God is here." 



JOURNAL. 277 

Geneva, Sept. 2. I am in Geneva. I have just re- 
turned from the house of the celebrated Dr Malan. The 
two days which I have spent in the company of this 
interesting Christian, form, I may say, an epoch in my 
life. The clear and simple views which I have been led 
to take of faith, since my interview with him, I prize as 
much as life itself. Of what a load of self-righteousness 
has he not relieved me ! of what misery, of what doubt! 
how simple has he made the plan of salvation ! how at- 
tractive, how astonishing! Now I feel indeed, as if I 
could preach the dying love of Christ, the fulness of 
God's promise, its faithfulness, its force. Now I think I 
feel it as pure, simple love ; before, 1 felt as if there was 
something wanting ; I knew not what. Mine was too 
much a religion of feeling ; not enough of humble confi- 
dence and trust. When that feeling was absent, then 
the w r orld had possession of me, and the fear of this state 
rendered me perpetually unhappy. This was not simply 
because I feared my own weakness, but because I felt 
not a steady reliance on him who was waiting to be my 
strength. This blessed servant of Christ has led me 
away from myself to the promises set before me in Christ, 
making Christ all, and God all ; setting forth in Christ 
the accomplished work of salvation, and in God, the 
sanctifier, the entire purification of the spirit. His is the 
doctrine of assurance. Yes, even the doctrine of assu- 
rance in its proper sense. That is, an assurance founded 
on a firm and unwavering belief in the atonement of 
Jesus Christ and the promise of God to sanctify all who 
hold that blessed truth ; not an assurance founded on any 
other ill-conceived and unsubstantial truth; an assurance 
of the same kind, but perhaps in some instances differing 
in degree and clearness from that which all Christians 
enjoy more or less ; but which looking more at my own 
24 



278 JOURNAL. 

heart than at the promises of God, I had experienced 
little of. I cannot explain the change this has wrought 
in my feelings, but in the beautiful and appropriate lan- 
guage of scripture, I feel now ready to " go on my way 
rejoicing. " I had much conversation with Dr Malan 
respecting the prospects of young men visiting Geneva, 
in order to become French missionaries. He thought 
it a most desirable thing. First, the " influence that 
they would exert among the French students. Second, 
the great proneness in the French mind just at pre- 
sent, to receive anything touched with an American 
character. Third, the mutual interest and interchange 
of feeling which it would produce between the countries. 
He thought for the present, money could not be bet- 
ter expended, than in supporting Americans, but the 
nature of the case demanded that they should be per- 
sons remarkable for their powers of acquiring languages 
with facility. 

Dr M. himself is more apostolical in his preaching and 
appearance than any person I have ever seen. His gray 
hair parted over his forehead, flows down upon his shoul- 
ders, while a heavenly smile or calmness sits upon his 
face. And then his manner possessed all the affection 
of " the beloved disciple," as he embraced me like a son 
after the morning service. 

Thursday, Sept. 5. Left Domo d'Ossola for Baveno. 
The ride to it was a delightful one, through a very fertile 
valley, with the hills of the Simplon towering up on the 
one, and long ridges of steep hills on the other side. The 
vegetation was most luxuriant — the fields abounded with 
the chesnut, the peach, the fig, and an astonishing variety 
of trees covered with rich foliage and fruit, producing, 
from the variety of their shades, with the vines hanging 
with full clusters of white and purple grapes, and the 



JOURNAL. 279 

beautiful verdure of the pastures, a splendid effect. This 
was very much heightened by the pretty appearance of 
the cots and convents and chapels on the hill sides, by 
the noble kine tranquilly browsing, and by all the life 
which the peasantry among the vineyards, with their 
baskets, or in the fields watching their cattle, or moving 
along the road-path, with bundles of sheaves, or panniers 
of fruit, can lend to such a scene, where the heavens are 
brightly fair, and the atmosphere luxurious to breathe. 

Bavino is beautifully situated by the west side of Lago 
Maggiore. 

Friday, Sept. 7. We took a boat to Sesto Calende, a 
sail of about two leagues. On arriving at this place we 
came under the sharp scrutiny of the Austrian govern- 
ment. Our trunks were taken to the custom-house, and 
not only were they examined, but we also compelled as 
usual to fee the rapacious soldiery, to whom these duties 
are entrusted. After this we went to the officer of 
police, who treated us very politely indeed, though our 
soldier attendant did not forsake us without his booty. 
The town was literally swarming with these gentlemen 
in regimentals. By the way, with all their swagger, in 
their neat uniforms, consisting of a blue coat and white 
pantaloons, they are fine looking fellows. After having de- 
spatched these matters, we started in a voiture for Milan. 
The ride was pleasant : the country as usual, extremely 
rich, and abounding in all kinds of fruits. The villages 
and towns thickly scattered along the route were bright 
and pretty. Near Somma, a small town on the route, we 
were shown an old cypress tree, which is said to date 
back several centuries before the christian era. Near 
Somma, Hannibal after having crossed the Alps, en- 
countered and taught Scipio the lessons of wisdom and 
caution, which proved so fatal in the end to his great 
adversary. 



280 JOURNAL. 

As twilight approached, our postilion cautioned us to 
watch the baggage behind the carriage, as that route was 
much infested with banditti. We saw none, but the 
reports which afterwards reached us, fully supported his 
assertion ; though we laughed as we passed the Simplon, 
inquiring whether there were any more banditti, &/C. 
yet the very day after, upon one road just in its vicinity, 
there were no less than seventeen carriages robbed, and 
in the conflicts which ensued, several lives lost. When 
we entered Milan, for a street or two it had a very gay 
appearance, being beautifully illuminated with painted 
lanterns. But soon we were plunged into the gloom of 
narrow and almost unlighted streets. Few persons ap- 
peared in this apparently solitary city, except where at 
every corner peering from his box, or his arms glittering 
by some column, under the full moon, stood the stern sen- 
tinel at his night watch. 

Saturday, Sept. 8. This day being the fete of the 
Virgin's birth-day, the shops were all closed. I visited 
the cathedral. If the outside was impressive, the in- 
terior was certainly not less so, with its massive columns 
of marble, its delicate fret-work roof, white as the purest 
ivory, its abundance of statues and paintings, and the 
splendor of its altars. The pomp of its priests, whose 
white robes glittered with gold, received a new attraction 
when seen among the columns of the temple-like altar, 
softened down by the white smoke that curled up from 
the rich censer. The effect of this, with the measured 
motion of the priests, is certainly very soothing and sub- 
duing to the feelings, and I can well understand how in 
breathing such an air, amid such scenes, one may mis- 
take his sensations for those of devotion and piety. It 
is the nature of man to materialize religion ; many other 
sects than Catholics do this ; but it is peculiarly natural 
so to do, with the rites and ceremonies of this church. 



JOURNAL. 281 

Do the Catholics repose confidence in saints, paintings, 
and marbles ? Let a person visit Milan, and at least of 
that place he will have no difficulty in determining : — 
there you see crowds bowing and kneeling at the shrines 
of the Virgin, around the sepulchre of St Carlo Borromeo, 
of whom the Church is the splendid tomb. Here you see 
these poor zealots rubbing their beads upon the cold 
marble figures, as if there was efficacy in the decaying 
canvas, or the senseless marble. 

Sunday. I was again at the Cathedral, where there 
was a sermon. There is no English service in this great 
city, — nor any but Catholic, except that of a body of 
Jews, who meet in a very private manner. 

Sept. 10. Visited the famous amphitheatre : this, in 
the form of an ellipse, easily holds 30,000 spectators, 
around its immense plain, which may be filled with six 
feet of water in three hours. It is a little more than a 
mile in circumference ; erected by Napoleon. The Aus- 
trian government, apprehensive of tumult or revolution, 
no longer permit exercises there. 

Sept. 11. The country little, or rather except upon 
the horizon, not at all diversified by undulations, still 
presents a wonderful contrast to the wide extent of 
plains over which the weary eye travels in France. 
The variety of vineyards, and of various cultivation, ren- 
ders each spot along the road enchanting. The villages 
and towns on the route are peculiarly neat and pretty ; 
there is usually one long street, at right angles with 
one or two others shorter ; the whole overtopped by 
the small tower of its churches. This, with here and 
there some gray old Roman column or relic, with the 
rich cultivation of the fields, the occasional passage of a 
carriage, and the merry trip of the harvesters, renders it 
far from monotonous. 

24* 



282 JOURNAL. 

Arrived at Coccaglio. Visited the church, which had 
a very pretty front with a fine fresco, as is quite common 
in Italy. The frescoes on the wall tolerably good. As- 
cended a hill in the vicinity which commands a remark- 
ably extensive prospect of champaign country, under a 
beautiful state of cultivation, and prettily diversified by 
towns and villages. At a short distance to the north lay 
the Tyrolese hills, not unlike those of Scotland ; while 
at the south dimly seen through the silver vapor of the 
horizon, runs aline of shadows formed by the Apennines. 
Not far distant from the hills of Tyrol, was a fine lake, 
with here and there its pretty village. 

Sept. 13. Left Brescia for Verona. Passed over 
a delightful country, more diversified than the early 
part of the day before, The route passed by Lago Gar- 
da, anciently Lago Benacus, mentioned by Virgil, as 
particularly tempestous. The view from the hotel is pe- 
culiarly fine, — of the lake with its island and boats, and 
high green waves, surrounded on the one side by a plain, 
mellow with fruit, on the other two, with a tumultuous 
extent of mountains. Arrived at Verona. Verona is 
illustrious as the spot where two of Shakspeare's plays 
are laid, — Romeo and Juliet, and the Two Gentlemen 
of Verona. 

Went to the tomb of Romeo and Juliet. After turn- 
ing up a narrow, out-of-the-way lane, and looking in vain 
for it, we saw a woman approaching us with a key ; we 
soon discovered that she intended to show us the tomb. 
Unlocking an old gate we were introduced into a small 
yard, which might have once been splendid, but was 
now surrounded with old and apparently deserted houses. 
Against a wall stood a marble tomb, once white, now 
stained by time, empty and without a top ; by it in 
one corner, were the pieces of slender marble columns 



JOURNAL. 283 

and pedestals which once ornamented it, — these were 
the remains, the sole remains of what has afforded a sub- 
ject of such melancholy interest, upon which the great 
dramatist has reared so imperishable a fabric* 

Sept. 15. I have just arrived, by the canal packet 
from Padua, at a small town about five miles from 
Venice, which with all. its towers and domes is plainly 
visible at a distance. Here w T e were surrounded by gondo- 
liers anxious to convey us to the city. Our passports were 
taken from us, and a certificate received to be presented to 
the police, within twentyfour hours, under pain of punish- 
ment. Among our company are two Capuchins, dressed 
in rough coats, bound with a girdle of rope ; having 
their beads and crosiers, and sandals strapped to their feet. 
They seem to borrow a deeper show of gravity from their 
long beards, which flow dow r n to their breasts. I was struck 
with the lightness of the numerous slender shallops, (not 
unlike those of our Indians, though of greater length) 
which shoot through the water with incredible speed. 

After crossing the Adriatic we entered Venice. When 
you enter the grand canal you see houses of more splen- 
d^than before, though their splendor is of a melancholy 
kind, as they are fast falling to decay. 

Sunday , Sept. 16. Visited the Greek church. The 
number of persons present rather greater than usual in 
the Roman churches. They were principally disposed at 
the sides of the church and by the door, at a considera- 
ble distance from the altar. It w T as highly ornamented 
with splendid crosses, and with many figures and 

* The editor has been forced, in consequence of the incom- 
plete nature of this part of the journal, to omit the sheets des- 
criptive of Verona, the route to Padua; the description of Padua; 
and the ride to Venice ; and also the chief part of the description 
of Venice. 




284 JOURNAL. 

paintings. The altar was separated from the body of 
the house by a partition with three doors, veiled by red 
curtains, which at times were open, and at times closed. 
Behind these the venerable priests with their long gray 
beards flowing down upon their red garments, partook of 
the sacrament, occasionally repeating sentences in a 
language which sounded to me like the Greek, though I 
could not fairly catch any words. The people accompa- 
nied them apparently in the devoutest manner, bowing 
lower and lower until they almost reached the ground. 
When the veils were drawn the first time, a priest clothed 
in black robes, his hoary beard flowing over his breast, 
came forward and offered short prayers or exhortations. 
When they w r ere drawn the second time, a young priest 
in a dismal monotonous kind of howl, chanted apparent- 
ly a hymn, at the conclusion of which four youths in red 
robes and caps, bearing waxen torches, moved slowly 
through one of the doors, and formed in a line before the 
red curtains of the middle one. This was slowly with- 
drawn and the high priest, as he seemed to be, having 
finished his performances at the altar, turned round and 
repeatedly crossed and blessed the audience, which 
closed the ceremonies. During the service two silver 
plates of the richest workmanship and nearly two feet in 
diameter were handed round, upon which a considerable 
sum was collected ; even some gold pieces were placed 
upon it. In the evening the Piazza di St Marco was a 
scene of great brilliancy, the cafes illuminated, the piazzas 
filled with persons elegantly dressed, sitting on sofas and 
chairs, and the square thronged with gentlemen and 
ladies, while a large military band performed the most 
splendid airs of the best masters. In some of the cafes 
or strolling leisurely up and down the piazzas, were 
groups of the proud dark looking Turks, in their red 



JOURNAL. 285 

or dark robes, their red caps or white folded turbans, 
silk hose and red slippers, with unchanging gravity 
smoking their cigars or puffing the luxuriant smoke from 
their curling pipes. 

Sept. 17. Took steamboat for Ponto Lago Scuro. 
The course was uninteresting, as we were generally 
below the banks of a level country, undiversified by the 
varied luxuriance so common to Italian scenery ; how- 
ever, the sunset was most lovely. I have never seen so 
rich a crimson upon the western sky; and yet so soft 
and deep. The effect was fine, as its dye became dim- 
mer and dimmer to the remote east, where a silver star 
seemed to shed a lustre over half the heavens ; for the 
moon was still below the verge of the horizon. From 
the departing sun, with its chastened glory, the retiring 
line of river, and the trees on either side, from a well 
defined, took a dimmer and darker character, and the 
delicate branches and leaves at the west, sketched dis- 
tinctly on the horizon, became at the east blended in one 
common shade. At Ponto Lago Scuro having crossed the 
river in a boat our baggage underwent a strict search. A 
short ride brought us to Ferrara, distinguished as the 
residence and the dungeon of the author of " Jerusalem 
Delivered." Some relics of his are still retained here, 
but we had not time to see them. From Ferrara to 
Bologna the ride was not very interesting, owing to the 
level nature of the country, the heat and the dust. 
Near Bologna, however, the country was richer and the 
trees beautifully trellised with rich folds of the vine, hang- 
ing with luxuriant bunches of blue and yellow grapes; 
occasionally cottages built of a kind of reed. Late in 
the afternoon arrived at Bologna, a handsome city built 
almost entirely with piazzas, which leave a singular, and, 
were it not that the houses are high and of a light yellowish 



286 JOURNAL. 

cast, and the streets rather broad, a gloomy impression. 
The shops were gay and the city thronged and active. 
Many gentlemen were to be seen on its walks, which were 
constructed of a composition, of which marble is a 
considerable part ; they were neatly dressed and general- 
ly handsome looking men. Before evening we walked 
to see the inclining towers, the lowest of which stoops in 
a fearful manner ; the inclination of the highest is three 
feet two inches from the plane of its base, its height four 
hundred feet; the lowest one hundred and thirty, and in- 
clines six feet. 

Sept. 20. In the morning visited a number of churches, 
rich in paintings of the great masters born in this city ; of 
the three Carracci, of Guercino, of Guido Reni, of Do- 
menichino and Raphael. What other city can boast of 
such names ? Among these was St Gallaria and its 
oratory St Pietro, a church exhibiting a simple and ele- 
gant taste : the paintings in its chapel were very fine. 
Visited the University. Were it only that the history of 
this institution is so intimately connected with the last 
dawn of a reviving literature, the proud seat of science 
to which Europe was attracted while obscurity enveloped 
the nations, it would be interesting ; but it possesses other 
claims also, for while the universities of Paris, Oxford, 
Berlin, &c. have advanced before her, there still remains 
collections over which the beholder will look with pleas- 
ure and improvement in its valuable and extensive 
cabinets. That of anatomy and of human physiology 
/ is very full and perfect. 

We left Bologna at about four o'clock. The sun had 
not risen, and the curved moon shone palely upon the 
long lines of piazzas, giving a kind of grand gloom to 
the city. The purple of dawn was upon the skies, as we 
passed the gate-way of the city. As usual, a crowd of 



JOURNAL. 287 

beggars, porters and rogues collected around us, with a 
thousand demands upon our liberality. The earlier part 
of the ride was through a fertile and diversified country, 
crowded with pleasant mansions, which shone prettily 
from the hill-sides, from among the vines and rich ver- 
dure. As we proceeded, the scene assumed a more 
rugged character. Short, sharp hills, with their bare, 
clayey brows, scantily furnished with foliage, gathered 
thickly around us. In the numerous valleys which they 
formed, or in straight lines along the bases of the 
hills, were slender trees, often overhung with the clinging 
vine, like innocent and playful youth, at the feet of age. 
At times, the slender, bare peaks, stretching off from 
each other, left a broad view of the wide plain, on w r hich 
Bologna, Parma, and Milan, with a thousand villages, are 
situated ; and afar off to the right, like a silver line of 
light, rolled the restless waters of the Adriatic. 

September 21. At noon we arrived at Lojano, upon 
the Apennines. Before leaving Lojano, we had quite a 
contest with our veturino. We had made an agreement 
for the carriage, the lodging, and for dinner : he, being 
half intoxicated, insisted that he was only to take us to 
Florence, we paying all of our expenses. It was indeed 
rather provoking, to be detained there among a crowd of 
beggars, priests, and postilions about this affair ; but 
still to see this fellow in his tarnished velvet jacket and 
breeches, blustering round, his red face swelling with 
rage, his body rolling and reeling to and fro, and his 
arms extended with the most emphatic gestures, was 
enough to provoke a laugh in his face. At length we 
decided to pay , and report the case to the police in 
Florence ; therefore coolly demanding his name, which a 
little startled him, we paid it. Before arriving at Pietro 
Mala, where we underwent a search from the Tuscan 



288 JOURNAL. 

police, whose territories we had just entered, Joseph 
Rosi, our worthy escort, became relieved of a large part 
of his passion, and then came very humbly to us and 
said that the place we stopped at, was not the dining, but 
only the lunching place, and that he had promised to get 
us a dinner, and bed there. This being thus all settled, 
with a guide, we started off to visit the Monte de Fo, a 
singular phenomenon in the vicinity. A pretty smart 
walk of about half an hour, over a rough path and through 
some fields of stubble, brought us to this remarkable spot. 
Here, over a space about twenty yards long, and six or 
eight wide, the fire rushes up continually from the face 
of the earth, in bluish and red flames, emitting a strong 
nitric odor, which is particularly sensible, when it is be- 
tween you and the coming wind. The fire generally 
burns low, with a running flame, licking or floating over 
the ground, though without materially changing its place ; 
however, in some places it burns more briskly, rising 
about a foot in height. Here the flame was much more 
characterized by the red flame, as the other was per- 
fectly blue, unless I threw dirt or stones on it, or stirred 
it with my cane. It then emitted brilliant red sparks, 
and glowed after a moment's interruption, with a deep 
flame. The ground around it was perfectly cool, and 
that in the midst of it but moderately warm. These two 
circumstances enabled us to walk without fear across it, 
over the small stones and gravelly ground, from which 
the flames rose. 

Some have considered this to be the outlet of some 
very ancient volcano ; others, as the beginning of one, 
w T hich threatens a future desolation to the spot. But to 
me, it appears much more probable, that it is the outlet 
to such fixed gas as is often met with in the coal mines 
of England. 



C HAPTER XVIII. 

Approach to Florence ~- Catholic Church — Church of England — Ducal 
Palace — Pitti Palace — Michael Angelo — Leaves Florence for Rome 

— Scenery — Peasantry— Ancient Temple — Falls of Term — Rome 

— Antonine Column — The Pantheon — Forum — Colosseum. 

Friday, Sept. 21. We arrived at Pietro Mala about 
dusk. In the voiture, besides myself were two French 
gentlemen, and two Irish gentlemen whom I met in the 
steamboat from Venice. The one was a priest of some 
intelligence and much superstition, though certainly, I 
trust, connected with true piety ; the other a true Irish- 
man, talkative and witty. He had passed many months 
in Rome, and prided himself on his Italian ; took every 
occasion to speak it, often to our great amusement, often 
somewhat to our inconvenience and chagrin. Its soft 
sounds harmonized but ill with his Irish tongue, and 
came accompanied with an odd grimace, as he endeavor- 
ed to give it a rich and flowing pronunciation. 

Sept. 22. The route as we approached Florence be- 
came gradually more interesting, the country softening 
down, and displaying all the riches of a fine climate and 
careful cultivation. The luxuriance of the vine was here 
most striking. It seemed to revel over nature with a 
thousand new charms. Now supported by a slender 
prop, its delicate tendrils shot out into the sunny air, its 
transparent leaves and rich clusters waving with the soft 
breeze ; now clasping the olive or fig tree, it wound up 
25 



290 



JOURNAL. 



to the very end of the tapering branches, mingling its 
luscious fruit with the green fig and tender olive, and 
throwing a new grace over their beautiful forms. As we 
approached the city of Florence, signs of its taste and its 
presence were discerned in the fine palaces and man- 
sions spread round in every direction. Now riders and 
carriages passed swiftly and frequently by us, and the 
returning peasantry enlivened the road-side. The im- 
mediate proximity is not interesting, for after having 
caught one fair view of its walls and domes and shapely 
turrets, with the silver Arno winding down the expanse 
of its classic valley, the view was entirely shut up by 
high walls, which intercepted all other objects. 

Florence, Saturday eve, Sept. 22. Immediately after 
leaving the voiture, almost careless of my course, I fol- 
lowed the crowd moving down the street. Many were 
entering a splendid church. I entered also. The black 
curtain fell after me and I found myself among a crowd 
who were kneeling on the marble pavement. Passing 
through them 1 came more into the body of the church. 
Few and stained were the rays that pierced the deeply 
colored windows, but the taper's light gleamed from 
many of its chapels, a chaste light was shed from the 
w r ax candles of the grand altar, upon the kneeling audi- 
ence. The physical effect was soothing. I stood in the 
shade of a pillar, — a finer aspect was thus borrowed for 
the soft light of the altars. It was the distribution of the 
sacrament. Everything which would impose on the sen- 
ses was introduced there. The church itself was com- 
posed of the richest marble ; the altars shone with gold 
and silver, the chapels were adorned with the finest 
paintings, the high ceiling rose to a sublime height, with 
its imposing show of fresco. The rich strains of the 
organ were in harmony with all this ; the notes seemed to 



JOURNAL. 29 1 

pass from chapel to chapel, and picture to picture, and 
linger along the gilded frames, and float among the cloud s 
and angels of the painted vault. Nor was this sensation 
diminished as we regarded the distant high altar ; and 
here a statue of the virgin mother, painted large as life, 
was enshrined among the jasper columns of the altar — 
before and around her, burnt the waxen candles, while 
three priests in green silk elegantly fringed with gold, in 
harmony with the music, swung up the silver censer, 
profuse with incense, and paid their homage of bows 
and crosses. The motions of a crowd of other priests of 
various orders tended to render the scene more striking. 
It had a kind of pleasing, soothing influence, such as 
would naturally carry the body easily into certain at- 
titudes, and the mind into a sober if not a solemn mood ; 
the impressions of these few fleeting moments, a few 
crosses, a few aves, a hasty regret, and a kiss of the Vir- 
gin, complete their ceremonies, and is called their re- 
ligion. I had seen enough — as I left the church and 
these feelings behind me, I could not help saying, how 
many weary souls are there seeking like myself a portion 
of consolation in the midst of their sorrow and anguish; 
how many, sharply suffering under sore troubles, are 
seeking in vain for relief among those paintings, statues, 
marbles, priests and incense; while the pure word of 
God, which can only give permanent comfort, is withheld 
from them ; or at least, how few the gleams which beam 
upon the dark eyes of those who wait most patiently and 
earnestly for the bright day-spring, amidst the shows of 
this subtle and gorgeous idolatry. 

Filled with these thoughts, I continued on my course 
to the Church of England, hoping for better things. The 
sermon was upon the duty of content and resignation 
under all circumstances, though it was not treated quite 



292 



JOURNAL. 









in the manner I should have preferred. But my own 
necessities made me feel most strongly the awful respon- 
sibility under which a minister of God rests in address- 
ing imperishable spirits in our deplorable condition : 
how momentous is his obligation, to bring his argu- 
ments and the whole spirit of his discourse from the 
deep fountain of eternal life, which can only satisfy the 
fainting or nourish the longing soul. I felt this feeling 
especially, as a servant brought in his arms a beautiful 
female, and placed her tenderly on the seat before the 
clergyman. Her father, whose gray hair and sadness 
w r on my sympathy, followed behind with trembling steps, 
and assisted to place the sweet sufferer gently on the 
seat. She might have been his grandchild, for she was 
not more than seventeen. But the hectic flush upon her 
pale cheek, spoke sadly of a career that was nearly fin- 
ished ; like a rose in winter, sheltered by a rich crimson 
curtain, whose leaves would fall with the first exposure 
or shock, her spirit needed but a breath to loose it from 
its delicate casket. And this was one of the spirits to 
which a lifeless sermon, without either consolation or di- 
rection, was given. If this is ever my duty, may God of 
his grace make me faithful ! How happy must the faith- 
ful minister be ! 

The state of things and society where I now am, is 
such as lies out of the reach of conception, to those who 
have not been acquainted with it. The prince of this 
world is completely dominant here, and all is for pleasure 
and for this life. I can scarce realize, when I see the 
gayety and thoughtlessness around me, that the people 
here are affected with the same sorrows; that they feel 
the same pains, exposed to the same death as with us ; 
at least, except in their churches, they do not appear to 
show it. 



JOURNAL. 293 

Sept. 24. Visited the ducal palace. The ceiling of 
the hall is of arabesque work. The effect of this is by 
no means so imposing as that of fine paintings and rich 
frescoes. This very extensive gallery is adorned by fine 
paintings of the old Florentine schools, by some good 
statues, excellent busts of the most distinguished of the 
Romans, and by a long line of ancient monarchs of every 
country. Here one sees Saladin, Mahomet, Tamerlane, 
Charlemagne, Henry VIII., Catharine of Arragon, Anne 
Boleyn, Mary Stuart, Wolsey, and many other great 
names in history. As you go down this long hall, on the 
left you enter the tribune. Here, with the Venus de 
Medicis, are collected some of the rarest pieces of the 
chisel which belonged to ancient times, and some of the 
richest productions of Raphael, Titian, and the favored 
spirits of the sister muse. 

Sept. 25. Visited the Corsini. This superb pa- 
lace, rich with paintings, and combining more elegance 
and comfort than any I have seen, or even supposed to 
exist in Italy, belongs to a rich and ancient Florentine 
family, said to be descendants of illustrious Romans ; a 
circumstance which is almost sufficient even to attach an 
honor to their title, even in the eyes of a stern republican. 
It has a low and elegant front, of a piazza-like character, 
with commanding wings of a simple but majestic archi- 
tecture. 

Walking through several finely curving avenues, we 
drew near an ancient grotto, formed of a dark stucco* 
embellished with several antique busts ; a cool retreat 
from the parching heat of summer in this sultry land. 
Turning away from the entrance, a few steps brought us 
round to the other side of it, where lo ! an old ruined 
castle rose above it, with its shattered walls and airy 
tower. Ascending this, we had a fine view of the city. 
25* 






294 



JOURNAL. 






Another avenue conducted us to a chapel, designed for 
a ruin, but finished with paint too raw and showy to im- 
pose upon a northern judgment. The garden contained 
a number of collections of birds, such as the pheasants of 
different climates, ducks, thrwies, linnets, &c. The 
trees were well selected and arranged, and the flowers 
rich, and the house large and elegant, but the whole 
wanted that appearance of nature, which gives such a 
charm to English mansions and gardens of that descrip- 
tion. 

Sept. 26. Visited the Pitti palace, so called, be- 
cause built by a nobleman of that name, who, to 
surpass a rival family, impoverished himself in the en- 
terprise. The palace is now the residence of the Grand 
Duke, whose servants in a white livery of lace, wait to 
guard the royal residence and conduct strangers through 
the splendid suite of apartments. A majordomo, with 
his golden headed cane, with portly gait, preceded us to 
the hall, where meeting another, we were ushered into 
the various halls of the palace. 

Visited the house of the celebrated Michael Angelo. 
The rooms appear to be much in the state in which he 
left them ; his brushes, models, &,c. As I sat down in 
the old fashioned chair, looking by a dim light at the full 
length pictures of him which adorned his rooms, I almost 
expected him to descend and greet me. 

Sept. 28. Visited the botanical garden, and ana- 
tomical preparations. They are the finest in Europe. 
They occupy a great number of rooms, each devoted to 
some particular part of the body. Besides these, there 
are other rooms devoted to representations of those deli- 
cate marine, and other plants which cannot be well 
preserved in the fine botanical garden connected with 



JOURNAL. 295 

the institution. There is also an admirable, though not 
very extensive collection of minerals and shells. 

Oct. 3. Left Florence for Rome. The ride was 
through an agreeable country, but presenting nothing 
very different from the charming scenery which we had 
before seen. There was everywhere the same air of 
smiling fertility. Perhaps to this may be added that 
the peasantry appeared to be a -finer race, and the towns 
in better order than those usually seen in Italy. The 
country was more undulating than on the other side of 
the Apennines. Our journey was not a long one, being 
but little more than thirty miles. 

Oct. 4. The ride was through a country which 
though now reduced to cultivation, bore evident marks 
of having been formerly in a marshy state. This 
is the country of which Livy speaks, as being " a marsh 
through which Hannibal marched his army." 

Oct. 6. We left Foligniano where we slept, at a very 
early hour, on the way for Spoleto. The moon had not 
set, and the stars shone with a twinkling brightness over 
the wide firmament, shedding soft light upon the excel- 
lent road, the vineyards and hills, and giving a pleasing 
and chaste character to the scene. It was not more 
than four o'clock, yet already the peasants with their 
patient little' mules shuffling along between two large 
panniers, filled the approach to the town. As soon as 
the morning light beamed upon us, they gave a pictur- 
esque aspect to the scene, dressed in their rich colors, 
not unlike some of the displays of Swiss costume. As 
the hills around us lighted up, for we were in the midst 
of a beautiful undulating country, it was pleasing to see 
the mists reposing like unbroken water in the deep 
valleys. Indeed we even admired in one place the 
beautiful reflection, to the top of what we conceived to 



296 JOURNAL. 

be water ; when as we came near, the deception ceasing, 
we discovered that what we imagined to be the reflection 
of trees and houses, were in truth real scenes, bathed in 
this delicate and mirror-like mist. In the midst of these 
pleasant hills now smiling in some agreeable valley, now 
frowning with their stern old walls upon some steep hill, 
were spread around in full contrast, the ancient and mod- 
ern towns which diversified this truly Italian landscape. 
It was just as the rays of the rising sun were slanting 
through the trees, making long lines of bright and dark 
shade in the rich vineyards, that we saw, the beautiful 
Clytumnus celebrated by Virgil, pouring its copious 
stream with many a soft curve, along banks smiling with 
sunshine and verdure. While we were enjoying the 
freshness and loveliness which it gave to the scene, we 
came suddenly upon a little temple beneath which its 
limpid current was gliding. It was an ancient temple 
to the River god Clytumnus which had afforded us so 
much pleasure. We descended from the voiture to ex- 
amine it. Eighteen centuries had not effaced the fair 
impress once placed on it. The marble was stained, 
and eaten by the tooth of time, but its symmetry and the 
delicacy of its cornice, and the fine proportions of its 
slender Corinthian columns and pillars, attested to the 
pure taste of the age and genius that designed it. It 
was pleasing to look upon this small but beautiful relic, 
connected with the superstitions of a people, though once 
so great, now living only in memory. 

The Falls of Term. This cascade, so celebrated in 
poetry and the fine arts, is now before me in all its 
beauty. Byron's description is by no means exagge- 
rated. The falls possess all the beauty and sublimity 
which my mind had pictured. The fall, which is in the 
whole about three hundred feet, falls first in one un- 



JOURNAL. 297 

broken sheet ; after foaming and tossing up from the basin 
into which it is first precipitated, it descends in many beau- 
tiful falls, down a ribbed rock, where collecting again, it 
pours in a broad sheet, and then rolls on as a beautiful 
river. 

Friday was not remarkably pleasant ; clouds darkened 
the heavens and the air had a disagreeable feeling. 
The country was considerably more broken into hills 
and in some parts had a wild character. Ruins were 
here and there thrown along the way, and not rarely 
fine old castles, firm and strong even in decay, graced 
the hills. Some of these girdled within their walls, 
towns looking wonderfully desolate. 

Our next stage was to Rome, over a country desolate 
and uninhabited. We rode for the two last days, part 
of the time over the Flaminian, part over the Appian 
way. These notwithstanding their great antiquity appear 
in many places to have remained unaltered and broken. 

Rome, Oct. 10. In the morning after much difficulty 
discovered the house of our consul, Mr Cicognani ; 
but not without seeing much modern splendor and some 
interesting remains of antiquity on the way. Of the 
former we admired the fine lines of streets stretching off 
in every direction, the broad and noble palaces and the 
elegant fronts which the large churches almost every- 
where presented. Of the latter, the first which we met 
was the column of Antonine. From its resemblance to 
that of Trajan, we supposed it to be the same. It stands 
in the centre of a large square, surrounded by handsome 
palaces and houses. The ground is plain on which it is 
elevated, but if the street which has recently been dis- 
covered eighteen feet below the palace Piombino be the 
Flaminian way, it must formerly have stood upon a con- 
siderable eminence. This circumstance shows the 



298 JOURNAL. 

strange changes which have taken place since the days 
of the emperors. In fact every monument which claims 
antiquity in Rome, mournfully demonstrates the same, as 
I shall have cause to mention when speaking of them. 
This monument was erected in honor of the talents and 
worth of Marcus Aurelius. His kindness to the Chris- 
tians at least entitles him to our regard. 

We were fortunate enough to pass the Pantheon also. 
Surrounded by modern edifices as it now is, one could 
not long mistake it for one of them. Though compassed 
by them, it seems to stand at a wide distance from them. 
Ancient remembrances at once isolate it far from all. 
Its own massiveness, its well marked form, its grave and 
venerable air, the Roman character once impressed upon 
it, all render it as solitary as though it stood alone. 
There it stands, as when some solitary, far from his race, 
dwells on the rugged rock, while his thought dwells upon 
the memory of things afar off. What can be more im- 
pressive than those lines of columns, from which the lofty 
vestibule rises ! They are sixteen in number, formed of 
dark and oriental granite. They are each single shafts, 
about fortytwo feet high, by fifteen feet in circumference. 
They are of the Corinthian order, with the bases and 
capitals formed of beautiful white marble. Time has 
marred them, it is true ; their fine capitals are shattered; 
here and there the rude blow has struck a piece from the 
shapely column ; but what a firmness and unity do they 
still preserve ! And who can follow the long sweep of 
curve which the dark wall behind makes, without a feel- 
ing of the profoundest respect for the genius that raised" 
it? " Notice," said I to my companion, " those mean 
houses built into the very wall ; they seem solicitous of 
hide their littleness by companioning with one so 
noble." "I think so," he replied, "for it appears to 



JOURNAL. 299 

draw itself up proudly from them, weary of, and disdain- 
ing their intercourse." And like a Roman he seems 
wrapped up in his noble toga ; let us enter. What a 
noble gate-way ! undoubtedly from some old temple — 
who knows but from the Temple of Janus 1 We 
entered. To what a sublime mood does the soul rise, 
when the vaulted roof spreads swelling out, lifted up on 
a broad circle of wall, at the same time adorned and for- 
tified by rich columns and pilasters. And what is more 
calculated to produce this effect, than the bold dome of the 
Pantheon, from the centre of which, the light pours upon 
each part of the building. This effect is the better, in 
that while the light is strong in the centre, the lines grow 
dimmer as they depart from it, giving that grandeur to 
the whole, to which indistinctness is so favorable. The 
altars around the temple were thus thrown into a shade, 
which lent a pleasing effect to the tapers, whose glim- 
mering light poured through rich columns, or just served 
to give life and softness to the saint or virgin behind 
them. How many devotees catch this spirit for a myste- 
rious life, and in the smile of tenderness that their 
imagination places there, find approbation and forgive- 



ness 



While the man of taste therefore laments to find often 
chef d'ceuvres of Raphael, Domenichino, and other illus- 
trious spirits thrown so into the shade, this circumstance 
has without doubf given to them that magic power over 
the minds of the superstitious. But those altars which 
now occupy the domes of the Pantheon, did not always 
stand there. But the mysterious dimness of the place 
was not less necessary to the purposes of the building. 
The cold marble was to receive the same meaning. Su- 
perstition's replies were to be discovered only as the 
flitting shades shaped various expressions on the un- 



300 JOURNAL. 

changing stone. How natural then was the structure 
suited to their superstitions. And now with what little 
alteration has it been turned from one superstition to 
another. On every side are the same columns, and the 
same niches, the idols between them only are altered. 
Indeed, in one case the name only is altered ; for in one 
niche stands a Vestal and child, discovered some years 
since in the subterranean part of the edifice, which is 
now recognised as the Virgin and child. 

In the evening we visited the Forum and Colosseum, 
guided by a ragged and almost savage boy, who had 
come to us for charity. He seemed to think his half- 
paul hardly earned by an hour's walk in an evening 
delicious as moonlight and a soft atmosphere could render 
it. Crossing over a dark hill, shut up between the deso- 
late looking houses, we came almost without notice, up 
to the venerable arch of Septimus Severus. Being 
naturally dark, as the moon cast the side towards us into 
a sterner shade, it seemed set there as a great spirit, to 
guard the ruins among which it was placed. There was 
an austerity in its ragged arch and shattered columns 
such as is displayed in the mood of one who has been 
cast by fate from a princely fortune, into a proud adver- 
sity. Seated as it was, among a heap of ruins, over 
which it darkly brooded, one could hardly fail to feel as 
if Marius amidst the desolation of Carthage was before 
him. We passed by it into a scene of melancholy still- 
ness. We stood in the precincts of the Forum. The 
arch of Severus was now bathed in a soft gray light, 
while columns sustaining broken capitals, on every side 
rose up over a waste of ruin with dim grandeur. Here a 
well preserved colonnade was half silvered over by the 
chaste moonlight, while its remaining columns rose with 
darker grandeur from the blending shades which fell on 



JOURNAL. 301 

them. Here three shafts, like mourning sisters, were 
clasped together by an elegant shattered capital. That 
had been the proud temple of Jupiter Tonans. Now it 
seemed by its attitude to implore the clemency of heaven. 

Here, rising from a deep excavation, stood the solitary 
column of Phocus, assimilated with the dark age in which 
it was placed there. To the right, the Capitol towered 
over the scene with a cluster of high buildings, which 
from the silence that reigned over them, seemed sleeping 
under the mantle of heaven. It was darker when Bren- 
nus stole in upon its untimely security; but yet I almost 
looked to see the iron-armed Gauls stealing along some 
of the dark lines of shade and ruin, which lay around its 
base. Near the centre of the plain, three beautiful fluted 
columns of the Corinthian order are the sole remains of 
the Roman Comitium. To the left, under the shade of 
an old church, we perceived a long line of large Golumns. 
They belonged to the temple erected to Antoninus and 
his wife Faustina. We approached them : like all the 
others, their bases were fifteen or twenty feet below the 
ground on which we stood ; so singularly has time and 
the wild rush of war thrown the earth over them. 

How many circumstances did these scenes recall to my 
mind. How many illustrious names were intimately 
united with these interesting ruins. What stepping- 
stones do such monuments form for the venturous foot to 
go down upon into the vista of ages ! How sublime to 
stand among the shattered links of those great and ada- 
mantine chains, which for ages have bound the world's 
history and destiny firmly together ! to press with our 
feeble feet, and even trample on the great staple link 
which held them in its iron grasp ! What melancholy 
steals over the mind, as here and there the eye catches a 
fragment to wonder and mourn over. For the Roman 
26 



302 



JOURNAL. 



Forum, the centre of the world's destinies, has but these 
relics of ils former greatness; so that the spirits of departed 
kingdoms gathering around it, may well say, " Is this he 
that made the earth to tremble ; that did shake kingdoms ; 
that made the world as a wilderness? How art thou 
fallen from heaven ! O Lucifer, son of the morning ! 
art thou also become weak as we? Art ihou become 
like unto us ? " 

Along the Via Sacra, a grove of trees shuts in the 
Forum. It was near here that Romulus was driven 
by Tatius, before he arrived at the columns which 
marked the site of the Temple dedicated to Jupiter, for 
the peril from which he was so miraculously rescued. 
To the right of these, along the brow of Mount Palatine, 
are the massive ruins of the palaces of the emperors; to 
the left the fractured temple of Remus, while above the 
dark line of trees, like the fallen angel, rising from his 
awful ruin, with a terrible majesty, emerges the immense 
pile of the Colosseum. I have stood, in the days when 
my fancy was strong, before reason had explored the 
regions which lie between the province of plain reality 
and unknown mysteries, among the shades of groves 
and desolate places, where tradition working with some 
fatal deed committed there, had given being to the plaint 
of the trees, making the spot fearful to dwell in. In 
walking through some such spots I remember well the 
strange suspension of breath which I have experienced ; 
and also a kind of outgoing of my own spirit as if to 
commune with the unearthly existence fearfully close to 
me. If you have been touched with that unseen, un- 
felt, yet thrilling finger which reaches to the inner nature, 
you will know my sensations, as, above the grove, I 
caught the grave expression of this great pile, instinct 
with life. My breath became quick and short, and for 



JOURNAL. 303 

a moment, like a bird before the eye of its charmer, I 
felt that the struggle was going on, which the mind at 
first has with grasping a great object. We had now 
crossed the grove ; to the left stood the bending and brok- 
en dome of Venus ; to the right, the arch of Titus ; in 
front, the mighty Colosseum. We stood riveted to it, or 
rather like some bark by moon-light, moored to a mighty 
cliff, swinging with the tide, yet ever with its prow to- 
ward the coast, straining all its ropes, so we in all our 
motions seemed bound by some deep and invisible power 
to its magic circle. How, as in the vortex of a whirlpool, 
is the mind carried round its wide circle and through 
the dark shade ; now over the gray stones which seemed 
brightly silvered beneath the moon, drinking in the 
sheets of liquid light, which came pouring through so 
many high arches and windows. Our silent contempla- 
tion was now sharply broken by the voice of a sentinel, 
who stepped out from an archway near us, his polished 
weapon gleaming in the light, with the ordinary chal- 
lenge, which, however it might for a moment disturb 
the current of our thoughts, at least gave us assurance 
of protection. After having examined for some time 
the exterior, we approached the sentinel to demand 
permission to enter. This, like all other forbidden 
things, was readily granted, in hopes of a trifling " bona 
gratia." Conducting us to the other side of the building 
he called a capuchin priest, who was accustomed to ac- 
company strangers among the arches and galleries of the 
place. 

Having lighted a lamp to conduct us over some of the 
galleries and parts that lay in the shade, we ascended by 
a flight of stone steps to the first gallery. The moon 
was falling upon the part where we were, while the other 
part was cast into a dark shadow. The broad area 
beneath us was of an oblong shape. Around it rose 



304 JOURNAL. 

up the piles of galleries, or where they had fallen away, 
the broad arches which had sustained them ; the light 
streaming into the deep caverns thus laid bare, seemed 
pouring into the vaults of a grave yard, which had been 
fearfully rent by an earthquake. Above them a massive 
wall went round, from which the galleries that it had 
supported had long since fallen. In the centre of the 
building, where many a struggling gladiator had breath- 
ed away his life, perhaps where the aged martyr had 
been torn by the ruthless beast, a slender cross now 
pointed to the heavens. No matter how it may be and 
has been abused, that symbol of principles so at war with 
those upon which this place was erected, and to the ideas 
of the people who thronged it, could not but draw the 
mind into some strange reflections, and thoughts like 
spirits of many ages came clustering to the mind. 

After having walked round it, climbing up to the highest 
part of which its present state of preservation admitted, 
we saw a new exhibition prepared for us. I remarked 
that our guide was a capuchin. Like many of his sect, 
his face was worn wan by vigils, while his dark brown 
garments and pointed cowl, his waist bound by a knotted 
rope, and his feet bare to the pavement, gave him at all 
times an interesting appearance. But now he broke 
upon us with a more fearful appearance. My companion 
had just been speaking of a celebrated scene in Robert 
the Devil, when a dark red glare shot along the pavement. 
We turned round, when we saw the capuchin issuing 
from beneath a projecting arch with a flambeau blazing 
redly in his hand. The effect was magnificent. Its 
glare rose brightly up the broken arches around him ; it 
spread wildly over the arch beneath which he stood, and 
as it shone on his pale, fixed features and the withered 
finger with which he beckoned to us, he seemed like a 
fearful visitant from the realms of the dead. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

The Pope — The Capitol — Adrian's Villa — Terni — The House of 
Maecenas — The Vatican — Museum of the Capitol — Lucien Bona- 
parte — The Catacombs — Villa Borghese — The Ancient City — 
Thor\valsden ; s Studio — St Paul's — St Augustine — Leaves Rome for 
Pisa — Peasantry — Villages — Religion — Ronciglione — Siena — Pisa 
— Leaning Tower — The Duomo of Pisa — Leaves Pisa for Genoa — 
Sestris — Peasantry — Genoa. 

Oct, 12. In the afternoon went to see the Pope enter 
his palace ; an extensive pile, sufficiently magnificent 
and mean for Italian splendor and sufferance. It is well 
situated on Mount Carallo j has a fine but irregular 
front and square, extends a great distance back ; its win- 
dows having here an officer stuck up to show, there a 
shirt hung out to dry, which is often the Italian compo- 
site order. The gray smoke curls up from the castle of 
St Angelo with loud explosions ; the cavalry issue with 
haste from the high archway ; the noble body form a 
double line of guards through the area, a distant murmur 
is heard ; sundry carriages at intervals, with servants, 
priests, and soldiers, drive hurriedly into the gate. At 
length the pope in a carriage and six approaches, distrib- 
uting his fatherly blessing on the kneeling crowd. He 
was a cheerful looking man, attired in red, with a red cap 
on his head. He laughed with great glee as he waved 
his hand at us from the coach. 
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306 



JOURNAL. 



Oct, 14. Went to the Capitol. Admired the bronze 
equestrian statue of Marcus Aurelius. Though colossal, 
its execution is masterly. The warrior sits there now as 
majestic as when ages ago he looked proudly upon the 
Roman crowd. He seems to feel, but it is Roman feel- 
ing ; to think, but it is of Roman circumstances ; but if 
he could now see Rome's ruin, and could hear of all that 
has since been done on the world's wide course, would 
not the iron charger breathe, and the iron rider speak ? 
Ah, there would be a stirring in the capitol. Even the 
dying gladiator would forget his wounds, and the light- 
ning-torn wolf howl fearfully. Then would Cato believe, 
and Cicero doubt not of the soul's immortality. And 
Julian ! thy bust would shiver with fear, for the little 
leaven that thou wouldst have trampled in the dust, will 
it not leaven the whole lump? Speak ! what has work- 
ed those changes in man's moral history ? Ah ! a few 
more ages, and those who now doubt of high truths, to 
which their weak reason cannot reach, as thou from a 
lower pinnacle once doubted of what is now clear to all, 
shall from their oblivion and dust, rise to wonder at 
the high and full accomplishment of Heaven's prom- 
ises. The principle is omnipotent and it will prevail. 
In the capitol there were a hundred philosophers, but 
Jesus Christ has triumphed over all, for he only came 
with pure intelligence from the presence of God, to the 
sons of men. What know ye of eternity but through 
him '? be ye wise and learn with simplicity of him those 
truths which from the nature of our minds we can learn 
in no other way. 

Oct. 15. At an early hour we were up to ride to 
Tivoli. It was but a short ride to Adrian's Villa. 
The astonishing extent of the ruins surprised us. The 
whole covers a square of three miles. They are how- 



JOURNAL; 307 

ever more desolate than grand, for a large part is 
buried up by the dust which has been accumulating for 
ages. Of these parts long arches are to be seen, through 
which the light breaks dimly, and upon these, the palace 
and temples formerly stood. Here and there however 
large remains indicate the grand scale of this once mag- 
nificent villa. This spot is marked by a group of rooms 
with the walls rising raggedly up around them ; this 
heap of ruins with its broken dome was a temple ; that 
long line of high but shattered arches was probably con- 
nected with the royal apartments ; here were the quar- 
ters of the Roman Legion ; and here the circus for 
mock fights and gladiatorial shows. In one place there 
is a kind of piazza under ground which formed the 
foundation of the palace, the whole extent of which is 
two miles. 

A short ride through a grove of the largest and oldest 
olive trees which we had ever seen, brought us to Terni. 
Some of these were not less than five and even six feet 
in circumference, and gnarled and twisted into one com- 
plete mass of knots. The peasants in this vicinity, like 
all those whom we had previously seen in the Roman 
states, were a diminutive and miserable looking race. 
The lands also formed the same contrast with the rich 
plains of Lombardy and Tuscany as before. However 
just in the vicinity of Terni, the silvery olive groves and 
luxuriant vines began to spread once more a beauty over 
the scene. 

Terni is beautifully situated among the Sabine hills, 
from an opening of which, like a silver river it seems 
rushing down to the plain below. We proceeded through 
the narrow streets to visit the cascades, the temple, 
and grottoes. The temple is beautifully situated. It 
stands on the brow of a rock, on three sides of which 



308 JOURNAL. 

is a deep and picturesque ravine. The slender circular 
tower, with its delicate fluted columns and the elegant 
architrave which they support, receives a soft beauty, when 
contrasted with the grandeur of the scene beneath, like 
a beautiful girl stooping over the brink of a deep preci- 
pice. The broadest cascade, with a narrow and frail 
bridge thrown over it, is altogether too artificial ; the 
water pouring under it like a thin sheet of melted silver. 
The other is more majestic. It bursts out of a dark 
cave, like a new born giant from the womb of the earth. 
The grottoes lie beneath the temple. A narrow pathway 
twines round the face of a rock down to them. Having 
descended this, we found ourselves in the midst of the 
spray which flew from the heaying falls. The view 
from below is magnificent. I remarked that it poured 
from a dark cavity in the rock down into the dark ra- 
vine ; now we saw it among the bursting foam which 
iose like smoke, from the agitated abyss. There was a 
terrible beauty in it, for it seemed to rise like a fearless 
virgin martyr from the flames kindled for her destruc- 
tion. The grottoes at our side were fearful to look at. 
They were deep caverns scooped out of the dark rock, 
from the black chambers of which a heavy waterfall was 
pouring, which from its indistinctness and roar, was well 
calculated to excite the most superstitious feelings. Visit- 
ed the house of Maecenas. The arch on which it rested 
and under which the Roman road passed still remains en- 
tire. It is now surrounded with modern buildings. The 
situation is most romantic. It stands over a high rock, 
down the fretted side of which a hundred currents were 
wildly pouring. Off on the right and left, and far be- 
hind, were the dark grouping of the Sabine hills, while 
the broad Campagna de Roma stretched off in front, 
garnished with ruins and commanding a distant view of 



JOURNAL. 309 

the imperial city. Among the hills nearest to it, drawn 
up to their very tops, like dark gray clouds, little towns 
were here and there to be seen. Green terraces of vine, 
lines of gray wall, with here a tower, and there a battle- 
ment, set thickly among a cluster of roofs, rose up behind. 
Well might this have been the favored spots of Maecenas, 
of Virgil, of Horace, and those bright spirits who have 
hallowed the spot to the classic mind forever ! Well 
might the great Augustus retire to this green and beau- 
tiful region from the cares and dust of the city. Never 
have I felt it easier to think of and enter into the spirit 
of ancient days than here. After a pleasant day we 
reached the city just as the gray twilight was stealing 
over the landscape. 

Oct. 18. Passed the day at the Vatican. After a 
single visit, it appears quite impossible to say anything 
about this place, it is so vast, and so numerous the chefs 
d'ceuvres, which are collected there ; though it is true 
it derives its chief interest from the antiques, with which 
it is so amply adorned ; for with the exception of the 
paintings, nearly everything dates back to ancient Rome. 
For a time, the attention is too distracted to fix itself in- 
tently on any particular object, but roams over sepulchral 
inscriptions, sarcophagi, bas-reliefs, busts and statues, 
lost in a kind of general admiration of the harmony 
which prevails among them. However, there are some 
objects that cannot fail, even under these circumstances, 
to exert a lively and powerful influence over the mind. 
Of these, the Apollo Belvidere and Laocoon are cer- 
tainly the most striking. These have often been most 
powerfully described, but I never was more sensible of 
the inadequacy of language, in conveying just impres- 
sions, than when looking at the Apollo. Indeed, any 
conception of it, formed in the mind from the combined 



310 JOURNAL. 

notions drawn from other statues, paintings, and poetry, 
falls short of the vivid impression which the great origi- 
nal excites. It is so full of life, feeling, intelligence; 
there is such symmetry and beauty of outline ; there 
is such freshness in the marble, that one forgets that it 
is cold and inanimate, and quickly invests it with all the 
sensations which it creates in the mind itself. I can 
only say, if others can describe it so as to throw even 
one fleeting image, into the soul of a person who has not 
seen it, they possess a faculty far above anything I would 
attempt to call out, for to me it seems quite in vain. Of 
the Laocoon, I can only say, that I have seen the finest 
descriptions and copies of it in America, and various 
parts of Europe, but had never the slightest idea of the 
sublimity of the conception, or the terrible force of the 
original itself. 

Oct. 21. Entered the museum of the Capitol. The 
collection in the gallery is not only extensive, but well 
arranged, and remarkable for the superiority of many of 
the statues. In this museum there is a hall devoted to 
the busts of the philosophers, certainly an uncommon 
and grand collection of genius. It is of itself almost suf- 
ficient to make one a believer in physiognomy, .or at least 
it sufficiently shows that the general character and ruling 
passions of man are traced upon his countenance ; and 
also that where there is much character, there is ordi- 
narily much expression. The Dying Gladiator is the 
most grand and affecting piece I have seen. It is as- 
sociated with the Apollo, the Laocoon, with those great 
efforts of the art which seem not only placed above all 
present fellowship, but even any future equals. This is 
one of the few things, which, like the sea or the heavens, 
defies criticism. The mind receives it, as if it was one 
of its own ideals, and dwells upon it with unmingled de- 



JOURNAL, 311 

light. The same apartment contains several other ad- 
mirable statues. Of these, the Cupid and Psyche 
struck me forcibly; their easy and elegant attitudes, the 
beauty of the one, and the spirit of the other, make them 
very pleasing. Besides, there is something that I like 
exceedingly, in small and delicate proportions in marble, 
except where great massiveness is accompanied with 
some terrible display of masculine passion. On this 
account, I am often disappointed in Canova's statues. 
The limbs, perhaps, are beautifully turned, and the face 
softened down as much as curved lines can do it, but 
still there remains a heaviness, which seems to arise 
more from the bulk of the figure than from anything 
else. Introduce such spirit as you find in this piece into 
his productions, and I think the fault would be even 
more conspicuous. His pieces should be placed it St 
Peter's, to show to advantage, where corresponding 
greatness diminishes everything to natural proportions. 

In the evening, the Consul called on us to go to the 
Prince Musignano's, or Charles Lucien Bonaparte's. 
The gate was immediately opened, by a servant in wait- 
ing, and we rode up through a long and dark grove, to 
an elegant portico, where a number of coaches were 
waiting. Servants with lanterns, chasseurs in their rich 
uniform, were present in great numbers. When usher- 
ed in, we were introduced to the Prince and Princess. 
She is a handsome lady, rather embonpoint ; having her 
hair bound to her brow by an exquisitely beautiful chain 
of silver, with delicate drops hanging over the centre of 
the forehead. She spoke very good English, with a 
pretty accent. The Prince is of middling height, full 
face, florid complexion, and inclined to corpulency ; he 
does not speak very good English, but was very pleasant 
and polite, without the least formality. There was not 



312 JOURNAL. 

much company present. The princess Cayenne, and an 
American lady, five or six gentlemen and ourselves, 
made up the whole. The room was small but elegant, 
the ottomans and curtains rich. On the table I noticed 
a copy of the Token, and a French Souvenir, published 
in America. During the evening, Prince Leon, natural 
son of Napoleon, entered. He is a good-looking young 
man, having some trace of Napoleon's features, but with 
too sharp a nose. 

Oct. 24. Went to the catacombs. They are entered 
by a staircase in the church of St Sebastian, which 
stands about a mile out of the city. We were accom- 
panied by two capuchins, as guides. Each of us re- 
ceived a wax candle, giving just sufficient light to ren- 
der this city of the dead more fearful. The account 
which our guides gave us, of this and that opening in the 
labyrinth, where parties had been lost or buried up, did 
not tend to render them more cheerful. One was shown 
us, which forty young men entered, and never returned 
or were heard of; they had run on before the guide, the 
earth fell in between them and him, and thus they were 
lost forever! These galleries are generally high enough 
for one to stand erect in: they are arched, and seem 
simply dug through the earth, and mortared over, though 
now it has much fallen down. On the sides are cavities 
about five or six feet long, by a foot or two in height, in 
which bodies were deposited : the marble or stone slabs 
were mostly broken out, or at least shattered, though 
here and there one retained its original state. We in- 
serted a wax candle through one which was slightly 
broken, and distinctly saw the skeleton within. Here 
and there it terminated in low small chapels. It is said 
that the remains of many of the martyrs were deposited 
here, and that this was a favorite retreat for them in the 



JOURNAL. 313 

days of their terrible persecutions. To what fearful ex- 
tremes these humble bat fearless men submitted, rather 
than forsake the principles of piety to which they had 
become attached ! 

Oct. 25. Visited the Villa Borghese. In company 

with Mr L n and lady, of Boston, entered the grounds, 

where was a great crowd, of all sorts ; cardinals, princes, 
priests, and peasants — carriages of every dimension 
and harness, winding up and down in every direction. 
A band of music added to the spirit of the scene. Nor 
could one walk long without hearing the tinkling tambo- 
rine, and meeting a group of dancers in their bright 
robes moving over the green plain. It was certainly a 
merry sight, for the maids were both handsome and 
graceful. As they moved, their steps were timed not 
only to the tamborine, but to small pieces of ebony or 
bone, which being fixed to the fingers, they struck, as 
though with a snap of the fingers, to a kind of rude 
melody. 

Oct. 26. In company with a numerous American 
party, went to see the ruins of the ancient city. Visited 
the street where Tullia rode over the dead body of her 
father — to where Horatius passed under the yoke, after 
the murder of his sister. Visited the forum of Nerva and 
the Temple of Pallas, which is near it. Of this, only 
three fine fluted columns, deeply sunk in the ground, re- 
main. Passed on to the baths of Titus. These are raised 
upon the foundation of Nero's golden palace. They now 
lay in desolate ruin, yet sufficient still remains to indicate 
their former magnificence, or rather that of the palace 
on which they stood. This was evidently entered by nine 
long corridors, once all filled up with dirt and rubbish, 
whether for a foundation for the baths is not known at 
present : some of these have been excavated, and the work 
27 



314 JOURNAL. 

is going on with others ; through these you enter into 
other corridors and rooms. Upon the ceiling of these gal- 
leries the beautiful arabesques are found, so remarkable 
for the preservation of their color, under the disadvan- 
tage of centuries of dampness. We admired the drawings 
of many figuies, as of fauns, females, slaves, deer, and 
eagles. From these, Raphael is said to have drawn his 
conception of the Vatican arabesques. In a niche of 
one of these apartments the Laocoon formerly stood. 
We thence proceeded to the arch of Drusus and the 
Aqueducts. Riding a mile or two out of the city, we 
came to the fountain of Egeria. The goddess of Numa 
has been nearly carried off by the curiosity-collecting 
visiters. In fact, I was so much of a barbarian as to 
disjoint a piece of the marble from her arm, as a memo- 
rial of my acquaintance with her. The ruins of a small 
temple of Bacchus stand on a hill near it. 

Oct. 27. Visited St John Lateran, and the Sancta 
Scala. At the former we were shown a number of relics, 
as the curb of the well at which our Saviour met 
the woman of Samaria ; the pillar of Pilate's door, in 
Jerusalem ; the column rent by the earthquake during 
our Lord's passion ; the stone on which the lots were 
cast for his garments ; candelabrae of Constantine ; a 
marble chair of one of the first Popes; and four columns 
supporting a wide table of stone, under which our 
Saviour was just able to pass, which shows his height 
to have been quite six feet. 

Monday. Visit Thorwalsden's studio. There was 
here a splendid statue of Lord Byron. He sits in such 
an attitude as to display his whole figure to fine advan- 
tage. His right hand holds a pencil against his chin ; 
his left, a book which he has been perusing. He has 
turned away from it, and his mind seems to rush on 



JOURNAL. 315 

over the tide of ideas which it has created. There 
were there a number of fine colossal pieces for some of 
the sovereigns of Europe. Among these is a sublime 
conception of the Saviour after his resurrection from the 
dead. The idea might well be supposed to be, " touch 
me not, for I have not yet risen." 

Visited St Paul's. This once magnificent church is 
now an awful pile of ruins. The whole of the roof has 
been struck down by lightning, its beautiful mosaics 
destroyed, its massive columns shattered to pieces. It 
seems as if the wrath of heaven had burst over it. Its 
former magnificence and grandeur only serve to render 
its present state move dreadful. Thus will it be when 
" Babylon has fallen." On the way stopped in at the 
Church of St Augustine. This, like all the Roman 
churches, is full of splendid marble columns, statues, 
and paintings. It is enriched with gildings and mosaics, 
with costly shrines and carvings ; but all the extrava- 
gance of its splendor is lavished upon one object. This 
is a wooden image of the virgin. This monument of 
superstition is enriched with every variety of jewel. Her 
neck, her hands, her ears, her head, and every part of 
her dress is covered with jewels, while the infant 
Saviour is no less loaded with them. Indeed, the whole 
place is covered with paintings representing deliveran- 
ces which her interference had accomplished. Beside 
these, on every side are knives and deadly weapons hung 
up. These, without doubt, are connected with the his- 
tory of those who have come as penitents to her shrine. 
She was surrounded by a crowd of worshippers, each 
anxious to obtain the privilege of kissing her sacred feet. 
It is considered a very ancient relic. It was sent by the 
mother of Constantine to Rome after her sons embraced 



316 JOURNAL. 

Christianity. The Romans firmly believe it to be the 
work of the evangelist Luke. 

Oct. 30. Left Rome for Pisa, in the voiture, with 

Mr G -e of Boston. The route possessed but little 

of interest. The fields and hills on either side lay 
broadly bare. Here the apparent desolation was occa- 
sioned by the brown stubble of the gathered harvests ; 
and there, by the actual and disgraceful absence of cul- 
tivation. This was too frequently the case ; for the 
peasants, though often good looking, are lazy and sloth- 
ful, and much more inclined to employ their time in 
fetes, than in the industrious pursuits of husbandry. 
But notwithstanding this, their beasts were generally 
fine looking animals, and they themselves were well and 
comfortably clad. They looked particularly well, wrap- 
ped in their voluminous blue or black cloaks, which they 
wore gracefully. But as I speak of the peasantry, I 
must not omit to make particular mention of the females. 
They were generally well, often elegantly shaped. Their 
forms were full, their features regular and feminine, 
and their complexion delicate and soft. They rarely 
fail to obtain a compliment from travellers, of which 
they are very fond, and if there should be an elderly 
person in their number, the compliment is sure to be 
returned. The traveller is surprised to meet such great 
numbers of peasants in the roads, some working, others 
shooting, and others driving their mules or patient jacks 
before them ; because along this part of the Apennines, 
habitations are less scattered upon the roadside, than in 
some other parts of Italy. Instead of a country thickly 
covered with houses, you meet here and there a town 
standing on some high hill, or grimly frowning from a 
dark gorge, like an iron-clad warrior, upon you. You 
meet, it is true, with many of these towns ; which after 



JOURNAL. 317 

all do not differ much from each other. They are, for 
the most part, constructed of a dark, grayish stone, of 
volcanic character, looking as if they came ready built 
from the vortex of a volcano ; and one might say the 
same of the whole country, for it is all one vast bed of 
lava. They all have their old, dark gateways, their 
steep, crumbling walls, their dome or spire, and some a 
dark keep or citadel, and a formidable ravine around the 
whole. 

If you enter them, you will find one long, broad street, 
and perhaps a hundred little crooked and narrow ones. 
As for the Roman towns, there seems to be but little 
business transacting in them. Here are a few calico 
shops, wheelwrights, blacksmiths, and tinmen, on a small 
scale, but all going on slowly enough. But the cafes 
appear to be the places of chief resort. There you see 
some at billiards, some at cards, some sipping coffee, and 
many too lazy for any employment. Priests and peasants 
you find mingled indiscriminately together. 

The first night we slept at Ronciglione. This town 
is singularly situated among ledges of rocks, which are 
of a volcanic character. The castle, a grim looking old 
building, flanked with towers, gives the town, with its 
dark houses, an imposing appearance. 

From R. the whole of the next day's journey led over 
a country in a very bad state of cultivation, and only 
interesting from the ravages which the eruption of some 
volcano, at a very early age must have caused. On every 
side the ground is gray and barren, while, where it is 
torn away by the road, several successive layers of lava 
are distinctly marked. One can hardly conceive of the 
awful condition into which the whole territory must have 
once been thrown. The vortex of this might probably 
have been the lake of Bohena, where are seen the two 
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320 JOURNAL. 

The square within is filled with earth brought during the 
crusades, from Mount Calvary. On the other side of the 
Cathedral, stands the celebrated Leaning Tower. This 
wonderful stucture is composed of marble, and surrounded 
by numerous galleries, sustained by elegant columns. 
This is calculated to give it an air of lightness. But 
when you see it inclining over to one side, as if it would 
pitch itself with an awful destruction on the houses be- 
neath, the feeling of its lightness is quite overcome, and 
gives way for one of surprise and fear. That it has taken 
its present position either from an earthquake, or by a 
settling on one side, I have not the slightest doubt, either 
from the circumstance of its being represented in an 
erect position in an old painting in the Campo Sancto, or 
from examining the nature of its base. But a stronger evi- 
dence is derived from the positive though slight inclination 
of the church and baptistry, standing on the same plain, 
and undoubtedly affected by the same cause, be it the 
former or latter. However, if I had entertained the least 
doubt as to the cause, whether it was a natural effect or 
an artificial design, it would have been dissipated on the 
next day, when in one or more stiuctures I perceived 
the same kind of inclination, though not plainly marked. 
Pisa has rather a triste air. Some of its streets have the 
low, dark piazzas, so common in many of the cities in 
the north of Italy. However, on a rainy day we were 
ready to acknowledge their luxury. 

Nov. 5. The effect of that beautiful church, the 
Duomo of Pisa is very fine. It is in the shape of a 
Latin Cross, and constructed of white and black marble. 
It is spacious, light, and rich. The light pours in from 
the high nave upon the gilded and carved ceiling, while 
the tall and shapely columns which support the galleries 



JOURNAL. 321 

are softened by the mellow haze from the stained windows. 
Yet with all its richness of marble, statues, columns, 
and paintings, the splendor that they create is of a most 
solemn and pleasing kind. This solemn impression is 
aided also by the burning tapers, the grave prelates, the 
priests, the crosses, the pulpits, the devotees, and the 
sepulchres of the dead. There is something singular 
in the variety of the columns, owing to the circumstance 
that many have been brought from widely distant lands. 

Nov. 6. Left Pisa for Genoa in a small cabriolet. 
It was a journey of three days. The road was every- 
where admirably made, and preserved in perfect repair. 
In its formation there were many difficulties to contend 
with. It passes over a very rocky and mountainous 
country. It winds amongst hills like those which the 
Simplon scales. This it has done in the most success- 
ful manner possible, so that one now passes the once 
formidable maritime Alps with slow but very gentle 
curves. The first and last portion of the ride was very 
agreeable, particularly the last day. On the preceding 
day the blue Mediterranean was but rarely to be seen 
through some gorge in the mountain, or off at a distance, 
almost blended with the blue of the horizon. But on 
the second night we slept at Sistris with its graceful 
waves breaking over the yellow sands beneath our 
window. 

The situation of the hotel of Sistris was one of the 
most lovely that could be imagined. Here rose the 
Alps with its majestic and cloudy summits ; on the other 
side stretched a gentle region of grass land, olive groves, 
and vineyards, brightened with spires and villages. Here 
flashed the Mediterranean, its waves bursting in spark- 
ling foam over the sands, or against the jutting rocks, 
for many miles along the curving shore. 



322 JOURNAL. 

From Sistris the journey was delightful. It was 
somewhat different from what the view from the higher 
country had led me to expect ; for the hills were by no 
means so gentle as I had imagined, when viewing them 
from a distance. But if this undulation of surface ren- 
dered their passage more difficult, it also rendered them 
more picturesque. As we wound along the beach from 
Sestris, nothing could exceed the beauty of the scene ; 
the hedges bristled up so greenly with the spears of 
the Indian fig, and the fields so rich with the orange and 
olive tree. The sky was not perfectly serene, but the 
rich fruitage, the novel tints of azure and purple that 
hung over the sea, the ceaseless music of the waves on 
the shore, the mellowed harmonies of the church bells, 
the fishers busy with their nets, the white sails scudding 
before the breeze, and the hills covered with snowy sheep, 
all conspired to form a very pleasing scene. Even the 
falling rain did not destroy the effect of its picturesque 
beauty. There was something so truly rural in the 
situation of the many villages above which we wound, 
(for they were often situated in little retired ravines 
sacred to all the joys of innocent seclusion,) while 
around them the vine and the orange tree hung too 
thickly with fruit to admit of the idea of distress and 
poverty while regarding them. Indeed the peasants of 
this region are a strongly-proportioned, well-dressed 
people, and their countenances, like those of all persons 
who live by the waters of the sea, were grave and hardy ; 
indeed it scarce needed to see the distant fishing-boat, 
or the nets on the shore, to discover that a portion of the 
time of most of the male peasantry was passed on the 
bosom of the deep. The peasantry often wore an un- 
commonly long jacket, not unlike the pea-jacket, while 
the lower part of the leg was frequently left bare, in all 



JOURNAL. 323 

its Indian-like brownness. Many of them wore a red 
woollen cap, turned up with black, which gave them 
quite a Moorish air. There was something peculiarly 
novel also in the appearance of their dwellings, their 
fronts exhibiting every variety of color. Some were 
white, others yellow, or red ; several combined a variety 
of hues, or perhaps displayed a showy, if not an elegant 
fresco on the front. Nature has done sufficient for 
these people. It appears to have furnished every resource 
for their happiness. But it has pushed its expedients 
against a nature too perverse for it, and has made the 
fact clearer, that man, though created with the highest 
susceptibilities for enjoyment, and surrounded with all 
the external comforts necessary to its completion, may be, 
and often is, miserable. The peasants are here apt 
without intelligence, superstitious without religion, in- 
dulging in the bitterest enmities, and the most debasing 
licentiousness. 

Before arriving at Genoa, the road cuts through three 
fine arches in the solid rock. As you approach the city 
the effect of the scenery is very fine. A straight line of 
coast, with projecting promontories, not unfrequently the 
site of villages, spreads along its green and cultivated 
hills, strongly contrasted with the expanse of the Medi- 
terranean, which opens out to the horizon. At the 
extremity of the view, the curve of its panoramic bay, 
terminating with its bold fortifications and tapering light- 
houses, stands Genoa. 

As we approached it, the shades of night gathered 
over it, and its lights glimmered dimly through the hazy 
air. Our entrance into the city led through streets of the 
most ample magnitude, lined on either side with splendid 
palaces. There is something very pleasing and dazzling 
to me, in rushing so through the streets of an unknown 



324 JOURNAL. 

city. The eye has just time to catch the dimensions of 
the grandest and gayest objects, while those which are 
less striking are unseen. One observes a noble palace; 
for a moment he is in front of its fine portico ; the spacious 
stairway, with its columns and statues and chasseurs, 
has hardly struck upon his eye, before he comes 
upon others as splendid, from which he passes as hastily. 
The theatre with its palace-like front, and columns of 
white marble, excited our admiration exceedingly, as 
w T e were whirled by it. In a few moments we were in 
the midst of a crowd of carriages and porters of the 
grand piazza. Of porters no one will stand in need, 
except to get rid of them ; for a dozen at least, fastened 
upon our baggage when we descended at the hotel of 
the "Quatre Nations." Indeed, we had no little diffi- 
culty to get it all into the hands of an individual of their 
number, and this being effected, we succeeded in forcing 
our way through the veturinos, who surrounded us with 
reiterated offers of " Voiture for Rome, Pisa, Milan, 
Turin/' &c. &c. 



CHAPTER XX. 

Genoa — Streets — Palaces — The Theatre — Palazzo Durazzo —The 
University — The Church Annunziata — Santa Maria — Leaves Turin 
for Chambery, on his Return to France — Passage of Mount Cenis — 
Leaves Chambery, and arrives at Pont de Beauvoisin, the French 
Frontier-house — Leaves Lyons for Chalons — River Saone — Macon 
— Leaves for Paris — The Siene — Havre — Leaves for England. 

Thursday, Nov. 4. Arrived in Genoa in the evening. 
The view of the harbor by night was very striking. The 
chief part of the shipping was collected in one place, 
which bristled with a forest of slender masts. Beneath 
the high wall, under our window, a crowd of boats were 
moored, while here and there a vessel lay along the 
shore, or at anchor in the harbor. At a distance, be- 
tween the jutting pier which protected the harbor from 
the violence of the sea, and the fort which stood on the 
other side to guard it from naval foes, a light ship with 
its tapering masts, and lines of cannon, was riding at 
anchor. It was his majesty's port-ship. The lamps 
glanced out from many a window along the curving 
shore, spreading red lines of light over the black and 
glassy mirror, of which they seemed the gilded parts of 
its massive frame. 

Nov. 5. Walked to see the beautiful theatre, which 

we had passed the evening before. The streets had a 

very lively appearance. It was amusing to observe at 

some of the fountains which we passed, the groups of 

23 



326 JOURNAL. 

girls washing most briskly, without regard to the carria- 
ges whirling by in every direction. The street, Nuova, 
is one of the most elegant in the city. It would do honor 
to any emporium. This and another connected with it 
are lined with palaces. They are built of stone, marble, 
and stucco. Many display a severe and elegant taste. 
Some of their porticoes and halls are truly noble. 
The streets, instead of being wholly paved, like those of 
France, or wholly flagged like those of Florence, have a 
line of flagging in the middle, and generally one near the 
shops. The theatre deserves rather to be a palace. Six 
white columns, of the fluted Corinthian order, support a 
beautiful entablature. The portico, as well as the whole 
body of the theatre, is composed of a pure white marble. 
The colonnade, which surrounds it, is of a handsome 
black marble. 

We then went to the Palazzo Durazzo. The entrance 
to this splendid palace is very magnificent. You are 
struck by the noble entrance, and by a fine court, paved 
with marble, and surrounded with graceful columns. As 
I passed from this, up the long flight of marble steps, 
which seem suspended in the air, to the saloon, I was 
impressed with sensations which can only be excited by 
the grandest objects. Though the whole flight must 
contain upwards of sixty or seventy steps, each formed of 
a long slab of white marble, with an elegant balustrade, 
of the same imposing material, yet the whole has no 
other apparent support than the wall up which it winds. 
The halls into which we were conducted, were elegant. 
They were fitted up in the Italian style. Elegant cur- 
tains of blue and crimson silk, with rich borders, were 
suspended before the long windows. The arched ceiling 
was rich with gilding and frescoes, while the fine paint- 
ings, with which the apartments were hung, were set off 
by a rich back-ground of damask silk. Yet with all this 



JOURNAL. 327 

splendor, the varnished floor of oak frame work, gave 
the rooms a cheerless air, and had not a domestic and 
comfortable look. They did not display a knowledge of 
the art of living ; there was need of a rich carpet and 
rug, of tables and books, and all the conveniences of 
every-day wants. I must say, that the paintings were 
superb. I may add without hesitation, that they sur- 
passed the national collection of some kingdoms, through 
which I have passed. Among these there were many by 
Vandyke, Rubens, Guercino, Guido, and Titian. The 
drawing-room is ornamented with paintings illustrative 
of the history of Achilles. 

We next visited the University. It is a noble building. 
The entrance is imposing. The balustrades which run 
down to the door, are terminated by two lions ; the force 
of their execution is wonderful, and the effect they pro- 
duce on the mind very singular. The hall of the Uni- 
versity is elegant, and adorned with some remarkably 
fine statues in bronze. They came from the masterly 
hand of John of Bologna. Those of Faith and Hope are 
magnificent productions. Some of the halls contained 
fine frescoes. They usually have from five to seven hun- 
dred students, and about twenty professors. The museum 
of natural history was neither extensive or remarkable. 

Visited the church St Annunziata, The exterior is 
by no means striking ; the interior is dazzlingly so. Tt 
is too gorgeous with precious marbles, paintings^ and 
gilding. You are confused with the splendor that reigns 
there. The ceiling is a massive frame of gold, contain- 
ing fine frescoes, supported by rows of marble columns, 
two being set on each pedestal. The chapel is adorned 
with precious marble, rich altars, shining with gold and 
jewels ; and choice paintings were lit by suspended lamps 
of the most elegant shapes and proportions, seeming to 



328 JOURNAL. 

be made of the silver of Peru. This splendid church 
was built by the largess of an individual of the Lomelini 
family. This kind of religous charity has ever been com- 
mon among the nobles of Genoa; for some of the richest, 
though not the noblest or best designed churches I have 
seen, owe their origin to the promptings of their religious 
zeal or charity. One of the churches of Genoa which I 
visited, is said to contain the mortal remains of St John 
the Baptist. They are deposited in an iron urn, under a 
splendid altar. The same church (or rather I should 
have said the cathedral) contains also an emerald vase, 
found at Caesarea, and brought from thence when the 
town was captured by the Genoese, in 1101. This also 
is guarded with singular care, for it is considered as one 
of the precious gifts presented by the Queen of Sheba to 
Solomon. It is enclosed in other vases of different metals. 
Nov. 6. Visited the church Santa Maria in Carignano. 
This, with the house, in its environs, is separated from 
the main part of the city by a bridge, not unlike that 
which connects the old town of Edinburgh with the new ; 
numerous houses and streets are grouped in the ravine 
under it; the bridge is however more slender than that of 
Edinburgh. The church, of which I was speaking, is 
modern, simple and imposing. It is not large, but there 
is a grandeur in its dome, which rises up from four heavy 
pillars, each adorned with colossal marble statues, which 
many a larger one cannot boast of. Two of them are 
by the celebrated Puget. Alessandro Sauli is a noble 
and manly production, but St Sebastian is truly grand. 
It almost robs Titian of his glory. Every nerve and 
muscle are forcibly brought out, while the attitude and 
expression are unutterably grand.* 

* The editor has been unable to find that portion of the Journal 
which forms the completion of the writer's visit at Genoa, and also 



JOURNAL. 329 

Nov. 22. Left Turin for Chambery. The land on 
the route was divided into parcels but not fenced; the 
principal part of it is grass land. In this region the 
houses are entirely collected into villages. The peasants 
are a good looking race. Their carts are exceedingly 
like our own ; but the wagons are heavy and old fash- 
ioned ; the pole turns up high above the oxen's heads, 
and serves them to back with. The mountains begin to 
rise up around us, though the road appears for a long 
time to continue in the valley. Just beyond this place 
at the mouth of a bold gorge stood a high castle, tower- 
ing over the cliffs, like those of the Rhine. Beneath, 
with an aspect hardly less fierce, stood a dark square 
tower, but now dismantled and overrun with the wild 
vine. Away to the left, on the unequal sides of an 
irregular hill, with broken wall and shattered towers, the 
gray roofs of a little town were grouped together ; the 
whole scene recalling vividly the days of feudal tenure 
and warfare. 

Having now ten horses attached to the diligence, we 
moved on more briskly to Susa, the last town which the 
plain had rescued from the snows and wildness of the 
mountains. We arrived there about ten o'clock. The 
hills were gathered darkly around us ; the river brawled 
loudly under the bridge, over which we passed, while 
the heavens sprinkled with stars, and the lamps shining 
from the windows over the walls and on the white and 
tapering church tower, gave the place a romantic inter- 
est. The scenes into which we now entered were of 
the sublimest description and did not fail to remind me 
of some of the powerful lines in Manfred. We had en- 

the route to Turin, and the description of that city, which he 
visited on his return to France. 

28* 



328 JOURNAL. 

be made of the silver of Peru. This splendid church 
was built by the largess of an individual of the Lomelini 
family. This kind of religous charity has ever been com- 
mon among the nobles of Genoa; for some of the richest, 
though not the noblest or best designed churches I have 
seen, owe their origin to the promptings of their religious 
zeal or charity. One of the churches of Genoa which I 
visited, is said to contain the mortal remains of St John 
the Baptist. They are deposited in an iron urn, under a 
splendid altar. The same church (or rather I should 
have said the cathedral) contains also an emerald vase, 
found at Caesarea, and brought from thence when the 
town was captured by the Genoese, in 1101. This also 
is guarded with singular care, for it is considered as one 
of the precious gifts presented by the Queen of Sheba to 
Solomon. It is enclosed in other vases of different metals. 
Nov. 6. Visited the church Santa Maria in Carignano. 
This, with the house, in its environs, is separated from 
the main part of the city by a bridge, not unlike that 
which connects the old town of Edinburgh with the new ; 
numerous houses and streets are grouped in the ravine 
under it; the bridge is however more slender than that of 
Edinburgh. The church, of which I was speaking, is 
modern, simple and imposing. It is not large, but there 
is a grandeur in its dome, which rises up from four heavy 
pillars, each adorned with colossal marble statues, which 
many a larger one cannot boast of. Two of them are 
by the celebrated Puget. Alessandro Sauli is a noble 
and manly production, but St Sebastian is truly grand. 
It almost robs Titian of his glory. Every nerve and 
muscle are forcibly brought out, while the attitude and 
expression are unutterably grand. # 

* The editor has been unable to find that portion of the Journal 
which forms the completion of the writer's visit at Genoa, and also 



JOURNAL. 329 

Nov. 22. Left Turin for Chambery. The land on 
the route was divided into parcels but not fenced; the 
principal part of it is grass land. In this region the 
houses are entirely collected into villages. The peasants 
are a good looking race. Their carts are exceedingly 
like our own ; but the wagons are heavy and old fash- 
ioned ; the pole turns up high above the oxen's heads, 
and serves them to back with. The mountains begin to 
rise up around us, though the road appears for a long 
time to continue in the valley. Just beyond this place 
at the mouth of a bold gorge stood a high castle, tower- 
ing over the cliffs, like those of the Rhine. Beneath, 
with an aspect hardly less fierce, stood a dark square 
tower, but now dismantled and overrun with the wild 
vine. Away to the left, on the unequal sides of an 
irregular hill, with broken wall and shattered towers, the 
gray roofs of a little town were grouped together ; the 
whole scene recalling vividly the days of feudal tenure 
and warfare. 

Having now ten horses attached to the diligence, we 
moved on more briskly to Susa, the last town which the 
plain had rescued from the snows and wildness of the 
mountains. We arrived there about ten o'clock. The 
hills were gathered darkly around us ; the river brawled 
loudly under the bridge, over which we passed, while 
the heavens sprinkled with stars, and the lamps shining 
from the windows over the walls and on the white and 
tapering church tower, gave the place a romantic inter- 
est. The scenes into which we now entered were of 
the sublimest description and did not fail to remind me 
of some of the powerful lines in Manfred. We had en- 

the route to Turin, and the description of that city, which he 
visited on his return to France. 

28* 



330 



JOURNAL. 



tered the regions of snow and precipices. The ground 
was thickly covered with it, while the mountains rose 
whitely around us like snowy clouds. In the midst of 
the silence of this wild country, the contrast of the clear, 
starlight sky, with the deep and fearful ravines beneath 
us, was terribly impressive. Often we rode on the very 
verge of them, with not even a parapet to separate us 
from the gaping danger. To a deepening sensation of 
fear which might naturally arise, we had the heighten- 
ing influence of a terrible catastrophe, which had taken 
place there but a few days before. The courier with a 
French officer, his lady, and daughter, were plunged 
down one of these horrible abysses to destruction. 
What rendered it more impressive on my mind, was, that 
I had nearly decided to pass Mont Cenis by that very con- 
veyance. In the morning of Friday we commenced the 
descent of the mountains, and for the whole day and 
night following, the route was along an easy descent. 
The country though wild was not without considerable 
cultivation ; indeed every spot capable of it was garnish- 
ed with green, or torn with the harrow. But still the 
country was exceedingly wild. High hills rose on every 
side, brown near the base, the tops mantled with snow. 
At a distance towered the king of hills. Along the 
green spots of the narrow valleys, numerous villages 
were placed. The peasants that thronged them, or who 
were to be seen tracing many a perilous pass among the 
hills, with their strings of mules before them, were a 
hardy and healthy looking people. But more can 
scarcely be said, for never were persons less attractive, 
unless among some of the less favored Cantons of Switz- 
erland, and never did bad taste contrive so poorly to hide 
the poverty of nature. 

Near noon, we entered into what might be called a 



JOURNAL. 331 

gorge of the mountains, for they had approached near 
together, and only stood separated by a narrow, but deep 
and rocky ravine. This favorable situation, his majesty, 
the king of Sardinia, has seized on as a strong pass to 
protect his kingdom. In order to add to the natural ad- 
vantages of the place, he has built a commanding castle, 
looking more like a defended city, on a high rock that 
frowned severely over the narrow ravine. The road then 
enters into a narrow and wild gorge, where scarce a tree 
or herb is found to soften the gloom of the scene. As 
we traversed this stern route, night overtook us, and all 
nature was shrouded, until with the breaking of early 
light, we entered Chambery, the capital of Savoy. It was 
a small and bustling town, with all the air of a frontier 
place. The language spoken was French. The houses 
and shops, which were constructed of a brownish stone, 
though furnished somewhat after the lively French style, 
had not a little of the Italian gloom. 

From Chambery, we at first rode through a pretty 
valley, and then approaching wilder scenes, passed 
through an immense grotto or excavation in the rock. 
It must have been nearly two hundred yards in length. 
In passing out of it we found a singular transition of 
scene also. For instead of having wild and splintered 
rocks only on every side, we stood on the very face of a 
precipice, with a wide and green country, sprinkled over 
with villages in every direction. At evening we arrived 
at Pont de Beauvoisin, the French frontier custom town, 
where we were treated with the usual French courtesy ; 
our trunks being scarcely opened, and our words being 
held sufficient guarantee against deception. What was 
the more to their praise, they neither sought by request 
or by any sneaking de-vice, to rob us out of fees, an 
ungentlernanly practice which my English friends and 



332 JOURNAL. 

myself had such frequent occasions to complain of, 
among the officers of Italy. 

After riding all night, we arrived in Lyons. Left it 
November twentyseventh, in the steamboat up the Saone, 
for Chalons. The river is neither very wide or deep, 
but it preserves its channel so well that the navigation is 
agreeable on it. Its banks are not particularly interest- 
ing. They are slightly diversified, and contain a great 
number of towns and villages. The river is crossed by 
a number of bridges, both of stone and iron, on the route. 
One of the largest of these, is at Macon, a flourishing 
town of about fifteen thousand inhabitants. This has 
fourteen arches, but as for the purposes of navigation, the 
largest arch has been placed on one side, the whole rather 
fails in effect. Macon was characteristically French, 
as seen in the capricious height, style, and color of its 
houses, its cafes, restaurateurs, and reading rooms, and 
the light hearted groups that our bell had attracted to the 
dock. I ought to commend its massive and elegant stone 
dock, which would do honor to any city. Arrived about 
eight at Chalons. And the next day left for Paris. 

The country on the route from Rouen, is diversified 
and well cultivated. The houses are like those between 
Calais and Paris, but neater and better constructed. 
The cross-lines of timber in the mortar have rather a 
singular, but yet not disagreeable appearance. The 
land is divided into well cultivated patches, by hedges or 
lines of trees. The hedges however were by no means 
so neat as those of England, though the people and houses 
looked more comfortable. 

A short ride from Rouen, brought us to the banks of 
the Seine, now swollen into an ample and imposing river. 
Its breadth and scenery compares well with that of the 
Thames, though the vessels on its surface, are neither so 



JOURNAL. 333 

numerous or large as those of its rival river. The villages 
upon its banks, however, are generally more pleasing in 
their appearance, and filled with a better dressed peas- 
antry. In the evening of Saturday I arrived in Havre, 
where I stopped a part of the time at the Hotel de Lon- 
dres. Havre is beautifully situated upon the Seine. It 
has fine and well filled docks, beautiful environs, and an 
active population of about forty thousand souls. 

Sunday Morning. Heard Mr Mines at the American 
Bethel. The room was filled by an American and English 
audience, among which, scattered over the benches, 
were to be seen many a hardy sailor, listening with pro- 
found attention to the words of life, and engaging with 
devotional countenances in all the exercises. 

Dec. 11. Leave Havre for Southampton, England. 

Dec. 12, Morning. Under the Isle of Wight, and can 
see the high cliffs of which Rev. Legh Richmond speaks. 
The scenery of the island is in general soft, and much as 
I expected to find it. The land was well wooded, and 
villages, and houses were here and there to be seen. 
Away to the northeast, a number of vessels are riding on 
what is called Mother Bank. Cowes lies off about ten 
miles to the left. Over on the other side stands Ports- 
mouth, its monotony scarce broken by a spire, though 
many a ship and man-of-war indicate its naval power. 



CHAPTER XXI. 

Arrives at Southampton — An Election Scene — Salisbury — hairing a 
Candidate — Stonehenge — Scenery — Bath — Koute from Oxford — 
University — Stratford -on- A von — Shakspeare's House — Birmingham 
— Liverpool — Dublin — Belfast — Returns to Edinburgh. 

Southampton, Dec. 12, 1832. At one o'clock the 
packet passed by Netley Abbey with its gray old cas- 
tellated walls, and came to anchor in front of the town. 
Before, however, we had done so, we were boarded by 
the custom house boat, and by several boats to take the 
passengers on shore. I found that they were canvassing 
for members in the town. Walked up the street to see 
the chairing ; met a great mob, many of them wearing 
badges of red and blue ribbons in their coat button-holes, 
and not a few of the crowd giving manifest indications 
of intoxication. The whole town was put in an uproar 
by the election. The shops were all closed. The win- 
dows and balconies were crowded with ladies, while 
banners suspended on cords across the street, fluttered 
gaily in the air. We had just got involved in the thick- 
est of the crowd, expecting to see the two successful 
candidates chaired, when we heard a shouting and tu- 
mult. This we afterwards understood arose from the 
breaking of the chair of the Tory candidate. The Whig 
it appears, had refused to be chaired ; the Tory, however, 
persisted to be so, though it should be alone. This was 
injudicious. For the crowd being excited by it, seized the 



JOURNAL. 335 

chair and tore it to pieces. The afternoon and evening 
were spent in drinking the beer and spirit liberally dis- 
tributed. Directly by where I was standing, a large 
hogshead of beer was brought out, the crowd collected 
round, and a few blows were given on the head of the cask, 
which laid it open to the invasions of the thirsty and rapa- 
cious mob. I heard one girl crying, " father ! father ! run, 
run, there 's the people all drinking and getting the beer 
'fore we comes in for our share; father ! I say won't you 
never go in the lucky time ?" Father, however, turns it 
over to a son, who already half drunk, rushes off with a 
pail, to fight for his share of the beverage, which had 
already worked such effects over his motion and reason. 
In the evening I walked out, and really the whole town 
seemed one great mass of inebriation. 

Friday 3Iorning y Dec. 13. Left Southampton at eight 
o'clock for Salisbury, where we arrived at eleven, just in 
time to see the chairing of Mr Wyndham. He was in a 
kind of arm chair surrounded with banners, carried by the 
shouting mob. He was accommodating himself to pop- 
ular feeling, by waving his hat in the same manner as 
the crowd around him. I was shocked to see the num- 
bers who were evidently under the influence of liquor. 
The windows were filled with persons attracted by a 
show which could hardly be else than disgusting to a feel- 
ing mind. Walked up to the cathedral. One of the most 
perfect and uniform Gothic churches in England. The 
severe yet finished architecture of the exterior was remark- 
ably impressive. Its shape was cruciform, though with 
some deviations from the regular form, having several 
projections from the nave, which certainly rendered it 
more striking than it would otherwise have been. It 
was constructed of a dark gray stone, had pointed win- 
dows, and low pointed arched door-ways, with rich and 



336 



JOURNAL. 



deep carvings. The inside is perhaps hardly so impos- 
ing. The pillars that support the inner walls are numer- 
ous and massive, though the small columns which 
thickly cluster around them, rather diminish the general 
fine effect. Between each stands an old tomb, many of 
which have figures of knights in armor stretched on 
them. ^ OV\eM^lAci f 

StoneJienge, Dec. 13. I never thought to be sitting at 
this moment in the centre of the Druids' circle ; but so it 
is ; the mysterious gray stones with their inexplicable 
traditions, and strange history surrounding me. These 
stones which without the cross pieces, are from fifteen to 
eighteen feet high by eight wide, form parts of two 
circles. Eight pair support large flat stones on their 
tops. These are from ten to sixteen feet in length by 
two, three or four high, and five or ten wide. At the 
sides of the greater pillars, both of the inner and outer 
circles, are smaller stones. While in the centre is a 
mass that once completed the pile. They stand upon a 
vast and rather barren waste, which from its elevation 
commanded a very extensive view. In the immediate 
vicinity there are several low mounds which evidently 
have had a connexion with the Druids' circle. We un- 
fortunately remained upon the spot until nearly dark, 
% making our observations, and endeavoring to splinter 
off some pieces from the rock. This however, we found 
very difficult, as they were of a very hard species of 
quartz, but we persevered until we were rewarded by 
£ getting a few small pieces. But our delay had brought 
the shades of night around us, in a moor as wild and 
desolate as any in England. However, the road was 
direct, and we accomplished it in a masterly manner, 
though not without some little apprehension. At length 
after a walk of about two hours or so, we arrived at 
Deptford Inn, where we passed the night. 



JOURNAL; 337 

We started for Warminster. The road was rather 
prettily diversified; it was not all moorland, but divided 
into meadow and ploughed lands. Here and there upon 
the wide plain, or upon some gentle hill, spotted with 
sheep, beneath their venerable oaks, were display- 
ed the green roofs of the lowly cottages. Though 
humble, they were pleasing. They were often spread 
over with the vine, while the rose bush trained up over 
the door-way, blushed with many a flower, notwithstand- 
ing the lateness of the season. The hamlets were of 
the most unpretending kind, boasting only of one or two 
houses with a higher luxury than that of homely com- 
fort. Yet the neatness of everything was charm- 
ing. In this section there were not many hedges. 
The peasantry were healthy : the females quite hand- 
some. 

Arrived at Bath. On Sunday morning in looking for 
a church had an opportunity of seeing something of the 
town. It is entirely constructed of a dark stone found 
in the vicinity. This gives it rather too sombre a cast. 
The houses are generally three stories high, broader 
than those of the French, without blinds, though the 
lower story has shutters; yet they derive from their 
symmetry a pretty good effect. Like Edinburgh it dis- 
plays the taste of a place laid out by design. Many of its 
streets, squares, and crescents are in a style of no little 
elegance. There are several public buildings also of 
much excellence, particularly the King and Queen's 
Baths and the Guildhall. One of the most interesting 
buildings in the city is the Cathedral. From the great 
number of windows it is called the English Lantern. 
It derives the title from the number and size of 
some of them. Yet the church does not want for firm- 
ness. Its stone is dark and its carvings elegant ; its 
29 



338 JOURNAL. 

tower is high and noble, pointed with fretted pinnacles, 
in good keeping with the antique body, every-where 
strengthened with flying arches. Its interior in its origi- 
nal state was simple and imposing. At present, a part 
of this, though properly set apart for divine worship, 
by detaching a portion from the centre, destroys the 
unity and injures the effect of the whole. Beneath 
this church are deposited the remains of the Rev. Dr 
Hawees whose name is so intimately and in so interest- 
ing a manner connected with the missionary enterprise. 
I attended the evening services there. They were 
performed by Rev. Mr Marshall. He advocated evan- 
gelical principles in a way suited to do good ; in a 
manner that harmonized with the recollections of the 
place. In the morning at one of their churches I heard a 
very singular and incongruous discourse pronounced, after 
reading the creed and church service, in the most emphat- 
ic manner possible. Between church I attended a prayer 
meeting. It was composed of simple, uneducated, 
and poor persons, yet taught well of the spirit, and rich in 
the Lord. Pronunciation and grammar were very broken ; 
yet the vein of piety and feeling was rich and deep, and 
the command of scripture language such as surprised 
me. I could see that I was directly aimed at in one or 
more of the prayers. I am sure I felt grateful, and 
thanked God inwardly for their faithfulness. 

Monday Morning, Dec. 17. The route between 
Bath and Tilbury is by no means so beautiful as I ex- 
pected. It had been neither so richly cultivated, so 
prettily divided off by hedge rows, or so picturesquely di- 
versified as it is often described. It is soft, because it is 
made up of curved lines, but monotonous because these 
sweep over the slopes of the same length and height. 
The taste, however, of many of the cottages, with the door- 



JOURNAL. 



339 



ways twined over with ivy, and red with the rose, 
would please the most fastidious. Tilbury is about 
twentytvvo miles from Bath. It has a fine old Gothic 
church, of a chaste and solemn character. Leicester, 
which is about ten miles farther, has also a fine 
church. The spire is severe, lofty and strong. Perhaps 
it partakes of that character which excites the high 
powers of the mind, but if at all those of a devo- 
tional kind, they would be rather of the sterner sort. 
There was an election going on while I was there. 
The town therefore was full of flags, menageries, 
pigs, puppets, politicians and drunkards. The same 
affair was going on at Lechlade ; flags, blue and red, with 
all manner of mottoes, floated from the windows, and 
many an idler sipped his gin, or drank his porter, or 
lounged round the place where the voting had taken place. 
We arrived at Oxford at eight o'clock. Found the city 
more compact than I had imagined, but venerable and 
imposing. 

Tuesday, Dec. 18. This day was entirely occupied 
in visiting the various colleges. In this town as 
far as the number and external character of the build- 
ings are concerned, my expectations were more than 
realized. Its air is indeed scholastic and venerable. 
Its spirit pervades the place and expels every other 
feeling. There are modern buildings, there are shops 
and hotels, but they are lost among piles of solemn and 
monastic mien, and thus are overlooked, or are them- 
selves tinctured with the prevailing air of the place. 
Go which way you choose, there stretch off these dark 
battlemented colleges with their Gothic door-ways, their 
narrow pointed windows, with their grim faces and 
grotesque carvings, and the green ivy clasping their crumb- 
ling walls. Look above you from any position, and the 



340 JOURNAL. 

high towers emerge from the lines of walls or the 
swelling groves, with their piles of fretted pinnacles, 
giving a sober dignity to the scene. The city is cer- 
tainly unique. 

In Edinburgh you find a fine college; in various parts 
of the continent, you meet noble ranges of collegiate 
buildings ; but here alone do you circulate through 
a city composed of them. I know of no place which 
at all resembles it, except Cambridge, in Massachu- 
setts. It is true, the difference is wide, but there are 
points of similarity. The latter, however, possesses 
but ten buildings, while Oxford must have about one 
hundred. I visited a great number of them, indeed all 
of any importance, examining their refectories, chapels, 
halls and libraries. But extensive as these are, they 
need concentration. Their whole system needs it. At 
present, the very purpose for which these institutions 

»«o»-o k»«ruirrUt tonrofhpkv i« fV? I °,!^ ***£"! anrl ihf»v micrht 

almost as well be dispersed all over the kingdom. They 
have professors, but they have not a powerful body of 
them, to bear systematically upon the students, as well 
regulated classes. The fellowships, if properly conduct- 
ed, cannot be too highly appreciated, and would be 
particularly useful in fixing the literature and science of 
our country. The students with their black caps and 
gowns, reminded me strongly of those of Cambridge, on 
an exhibition day. 

Left Oxford on the evening of the eighteenth, for Strat- 
ford-on-Avon. Arrived at Stratford-on-Avon, at five. 
After an early breakfast at the Golden Lion, I walked 
up to the house of the prince of poets. It was a small 
and antique house, stooping with age. Two houses of 
stronger proportions supported it on either side, with 
which ranges of buildings were connected. Its face 



JOURNAL. 341 

was of plaster, with here and there a dark line of plank 
thrown across it. " It is a small house for so great a man to 
be born in," said the old lady to me, as I entered. The 
lower part was divided off into three rooms. The ascent 
to that in which he was born, was by a flight of narrow 
and crooked stairs. The room was nearly square, was 
floored with hard oak, though showing the wear of time. 
It was very low, lighted by one small window, and its 
walls traced over by thousands of names, marked with 
the pencil. 

Remained in Stratford until one o'clock, during which 
time walked round the town, visited the church where 
are deposited the remains of the immortal poet, and the 
hotel where is preserved the painting presented to the 
town by several distinguished men. From S. it is a 
pleasant ride to Birmingham. There is nothing in the 
scenery or cultivation to distinguish it from that which I 
had already passed, except that it is somewhat more level. 
Take any one scene, and it doubtless claims the praise 
of prettiness ; but take many, and they would receive 
that of sameness, if they were not even called tame. It 
was just getting to be dark, as I arrived at Birmingham. 
The shops have a brilliant, and the town a lively ap- 
pearance, by night. The print-shops are peculiarly 
attractive ; there were none of those naked and dis- 
gusting pieces, which the modest eye turns from in 
Paris. The cutlers and silversmiths also made a most 
pleasing and rich show. Walked round the city — found 
some fine churches and streets, several of which exhibited 
appearance of wealth and elegance, though the houses in 
general, of other parts, are small and the streets 
dirty. 

Leave Birmingham for Liverpool, in the stage at twelve 
29*« 



342 JOURNAL. 

o'clock at night, and arrive in Liverpool at twelve the 
next day. In Liverpool visit the Exchange, the docks, 
and the cemetery. Enter a temperance meeting in the 
evening, and unexpectedly make an address — went on 
very well without embarrassment, though a little discon- 
certed by the applause with which it is their custom to 
cheer any sentiments that strike them. Leave Liverpool 
the next morning at eleven, in the steamboat for Dublin, 
where I arrived Sunday morning, in time for morning 
service. In the evening heard the Rev. Mr Stuart on 
"The day is far spent." It was a repentance sermon, 
and he a revival man. It was affectionate, eloquent 
and stirring. He is considered one of the most eminent 
of the Independent preachers. 

Dec. 24. Took a general view of Dublin — struck 
with its splendor, and especially with its resemblance, in 
many respects, to Boston. Noticed several of its fine 
streets and public buildings. Sackville Street — fine 
broad street — elegant shops — noble Post Office, of 
granite stone, with a front of two hundred and twenty- 
three feet, and a grand portico with six noble pil- 
lars of the Ionic order. Its pedement is ornamented with 
three statues, a style very common in Dublin, which 
gives an air of elegance to its fine buildings. It was 
erected at an expense of more than fifty thousand pounds. 
Near it stands a fine monument of Lord Nelson. It is 
about one hundred and fifty feet high, of the fluted Tuscan 
order, and bears a statue of his Lordship on the top. It 
resembles that of Lord Melville, in Edinburgh, but is not 
so light and tasteful. Its expense was about seven thou- 
sand pounds. 

Dec. 25. It is impossible to proceed in any direction 
without encountering buildings of great magnificence. 



JOURNAL. 343 

This splendor is the more pleasing as it is uniformly con- 
nected with usefulness. Proceeding to the end of Sackville 
Street, and crossing a short but elegant bridge, you com- 
mand at once the view of several noble edifices. I was 
especially struck by the Custom House, which lay at a 
distance on the face of the fine quays. Its front was of 
massive granite, presenting a face three hundred and 
seventyfive feet in length. Like many of the public 
buildings of Dublin, it was formed by two pavilions 
joined by arcades and united in the centre. Its entab- 
lature and cornice are bold and elegant. Its statues well 
finished and appropriate. They are those of Neptune, 
Industry, Plenty, and Mercury. The whole is sur- 
mounted by a noble dome, surrounded by columns and 
surmounted by a figure of Hope. This is one hundred 
and twentyfive feet in height. This, with one of the 
docks connected with it, is said to have cost three hun- 
dred and ninetyeight thousand pounds. Advancing a 
few steps, you get a full view of the splendid Bank and 
University, which occupy the two sides of the streets 
nearest you. 

Friday. Having passed a few days in Dublin, I 
proceeded to Belfast, in order to take the steamboat 
for Scotland. On arriving in Belfast, I found that 
my old friend and classmate at the University of 
Edinburgh, had once more left Ireland to pass his win- 
ter in Scotland. Though the young gentleman, Mr 

H a, was absent, his parents had received and read 

the letter which 1 had addressed to their son, to apprise 
him of my intention of visiting his native city. On calling 
at the house, I was invited into the sitting-room, and the 
Doctor, a very talented, pious, and agreeable gentleman, 
came down. After welcoming me to Belfast, and observ- 



344 JOURNAL. 

ing that he had heard his son frequently mention me, he 
said " But where is your trunk? " I replied, " I have 
left it at the hotel." " That won't do ; you must bring 
it here ; we all expect you." " But I leave in the morn- 
ing, and therefore think it will be more proper to remain 
at the hotel." " Not at all, my dear sir, an em- 
bargo is laid on you, and therefore, stop you must ; 
so just walk up to the parlor, and the ladies shall 
confirm the sentence." We entered the parlor. — 
I was immediately introduced to several ladies and gen- 
tlemen, who were passing the evening with him. I was 
immediately engaged in an agreeable conversation, and 
before the evening concluded, promised to stay until 
Monday. The days passed quickly and pleasantly by. 
There was no boat on Monday, and as Tuesday was New 
Year's, and as several parties were made for me, it was 
decided that no excuse should be taken for a departure 
on that day. And so it passed on until Saturday. During 
that time there was no limit to the kindness and polite 
attentions which I received. One offered me his car- 
riage to see the country ; another procured tickets for 
the botanical gardens, museum, &c. and all vied in their 
efforts to render my visit delightful as possible. I never 
met with persons so cordial and frank. 

I could not help often thinking, when in Ireland, of 
the different opinions which we hold of it. We have 
hardly once imagined a beautiful island, fine cities, pretty 
country estates, and a rich and cultivated society. We 
have regarded them only as an unfortunate people. We 
have only seen them as such, and all our dealings with 
them has been as with the poor and distressed. I have 
often been led to feel, while experiencing their hospitali- 
ties, that God was thus repaying the unceasing chari- 



JOURNAL. 



345 



ties which a distant and humble class of their fellow 
countrymen have, and are doubtless now receiving at 
home. Thus does God redeem his promises to those 
who scatter liberally and cast their bread upon the 
waters. And may I not say the same of Scotland ? Yes, 
God's word is true, and his Providence determined. 
Their kindness was unparalleled; it was well timed too; 
for to confess the truth, my heart was heavy with home- 
sickness. Not weak and unmanly sentimentality, but 
with the urgent want of social communion, and the irre- 
pressible anxieties and longings of nature after those from 
whom that nature and those feelings were derived. This 

noble christian lady, Mrs H a, talented, active, and 

affectionate, did much to revive my spirits ; and if it had 
been possible, to supply the place of a mother to me ; 
while the Doctor taking my arm, as my father would 
do, almost led me to the momentary but pleasant 
delusion that I was at home. I have sometimes feared 
much that these and the extraordinary attentions which I 
have enjoyed, would work on the pride of my natural 
temper, to render me conceited, and build me up in a 
narrow minded vanity. But I hope not. I certainly 
despise the spirit, and it is my constant prayer that God 
w r ould check it. It is always contemptible; in a Chris- 
tian it is intolerable. I did not leave Ireland without 
regret. 

After a favorable voyage we arrived in Glasgow on 
Sunday morning ; and on Monday returned to Edin- 
burgh. 



CHAPTER XXII. 

Mr O — ' — s — Sacrament — A Dinner Party — Professor Wilson — The 
Opium Eater — Mr Hamilton — Dr Chalmers — America — British 
Travellers in A merica — Established Church — Reform — Fellowships 

— Professor Wilson's Family, — Leaves Edinburgh for Liverpool 

— Mr Southey, and Mr Wordsworth — Extract from Journal of Voyage 
to New York. 

[The Editor does not find that a very full or connected 
journal was kept by Henry after his return to Edinburgh, 
where he spent a second winter in the prosecution of his 
religious studies. The Editor has been compelled from 
want of room, to omit much that is interesting, and content 
himself with a few brief extracts.] 

Edinburgh — Monday, Jan. 21. In the afternoon 
dined with an old friend, Mr E. Mr E. is of the old 
school ; a man advanced in years, and well to do in the 
world. He is tall, stoops forward, and in face is at 
once lengthy, witty and wise. Such characters abound 
here ; he is one of a numerous species, and as it requires 
a combination of circumstances, such as only meet in this 
country to form it, you will look in vain elsewhere for 
his resemblance. Of course Scotland and his ' ain ' 
city are his only ideals of the perfect, and " London, 
whence he had just come up, with its bewildering, 
crookit streets, and hamely breek houses, was nae the 
place for him." However he was a kind gentleman, arid 



JOURNAL. 347 

what is of vast importance in this aristocratical city, 
' weel connec'it,' (of a high family). There were a 
young clergyman, his physician, two young ladies, and 
his family at table. After the cloth was removed, a 
fashion of ancient date, though falling into general de- 
suetude, showed that he still clung tenaciously to ancestral 
practices. Pouring out a glass of wine, he commenced 
and went entirely round the table before it reached his 

lips, with Dr , with a bow, Miss B., with another, 

Mr M., still bowing and naming his guests and family, 
till the round was made, after which he drank his wine. 
The gentlemen and ladies following his cue, all did the 
same. After sitting about half an hour longer, the 
ladies rose to go to the parlor, though not without " D'ye 
gang sae early ? " from the old gentleman. After their 
departure, the conversation fell on temperance. Here 
the Doctor came in with me as a coadjutor, though not 
without fear and trembling, so fearful are these people of 
braving established customs, though convinced they are 
vices. However, I could but laugh at one thing he told 
us. — " Weel," said he, " it sure's an awfu' speaking sin 
to pour out naggins and penny drams to the puir bodies 
that are shivering for claes and fire at hame, and that 
too in a' the closes and streets in the city. I J m nae 
one to blush at a' things, but I blushit to the eyes, as I 
went in to Baillie B.'s to see him all deckit up wi' his 
gold Baillie's chain, helping the puir bodies, to what 
would be tears and wounds amang their ain kith, for a' 
he was a Baillie !" 

Dined at Mr G.'s. A Scotchman never likes to 
have his country called poor before a stranger — it 
touches his pride sharply. However, murder will 
out sometimes. They were speaking of reform. Said 



348 JOURNAL. 

one, " Our nobility are unfortunately quite toryish." 
" That '11 not continue long if the present ministers keep 
power, for our folk follow the f meat ' side ; they 're not 
slow to find who gives the gifts, and there 's some little 
need that bare titles should get them." " For a' that, 
they 're not so poor though," said another. " Well, who 
are rich ? " So an enumeration commenced, and though 
he could collect but a small number with all his zeal, 
yet even their claims looked but threadbare. The 
subject of Temperance was again introduced and dis- 
cussed. 

Thursday Evening. Small party at Professor Wil- 
son's. Several of the company in fancy dresses. Lady 
in the style of Queen Elizabeth's day, a Mohammedan, 
Hamlet, officers, &c. foe. ; it was the night of the 
fancy ball. Some conversation on the author of 
" Pleasures and Pains of Opium Eating." During his 
stay of eleven months at Wilson's, he was up all night, 
in bed during the day — lived much on coffee! After 
taking opium was often very tedious — gave the greatest 
importance to trifles. " I got up twentythree minutes 
and a half after seven," &c, then describing in the 
most minute and pompous manner all that followed up 
to the particular moment in question. 

Mr W. expressed many desires to visit America. — 
Hopes to accomplish it some time. Gave an interesting 
account of his summer expedition in the Vernon man-of- 
war. He spoke highly of Bryant's poems. Observed that 
his friend Mr Hamilton, the author of Cyril Thornton, 
was preparing a work on America, where he had been 
travelling. Said he saw no reason why a staunch friend 
to the constitution of England, and a steady adherent to 
English principles, might not at the same time admire 
that of America. Thought that the different distribu- 



JOURNAL. 



349 



tion of property, the diversity of interests and the pe- 
culiar habits and prejudices, geographical situation and 
political relations of the two countries, admirably fitted 
each to their present forms of jurisprudence and gov- 
ernment. He thought on the whole, that the work of 
Mr Hamilton would be favorable to us. 

Monday. Dined with Dr Chalmers. It was J3t Pat- 
rick's day, and his own birthday. The company was 
therefore mainly composed of Irish students, at least at 
dinner. The table was well spread, no spirit was in- 
troduced, and but little wine used. There was a 
" Scotch haggis " on the table, which was a subject for 
much merriment. It was partly concealed in a napkin ; 
" too much swaddled," as the Doctor observed ; he wished 
to see it in " its native beauty, its sonsie face unhid/' he 
then quoted Burns's song to this " Prince of the Pud- 
ding race." In the evening several gentlemen and 
ladies came in. Some of the gentlemen were called upon 
for Irish songs ; they certainly appeared rather ill-timed 
and singular, as coming from theological students. 
Indeed, after one, there was an awful pause, and the 
better part of the theological students certainly looked 
very ill at ease. A gentleman beside me remarked, 
" Don't you think those are very strange songs ?" 
" Very singular taste," said I. " Quite a mixture of the 
mirth and savageness of the people, it strikes me." Had 
some conversation on Foster. "Do you not think, sir," 
I said, " that his style combines much that is philosophi- 
cally accurate, with not a little of mystical grandeur ? " 
" Yes, quite so," replied the doctor, " the excellence of 
the first, belongs to the finish of his mind ; the fault, if 
it be so, of the other, to the deficiency of our language." 

Wednesday. At Mr H 's. After breakfast the 

30 



359 



JOURNAL. 



conversation turned upon America. Mrs Trollope's book 
was alluded to. A young gentleman present spoke in 
favorable terms of the work. I simply said that I had 
read a part of the book, and regretted its publication, 
more for the injury it might do the English than ourselves. 
For what can Americans think of a country where such 
a work passes as sterling ? He then spoke of Mr Stuart's 
late travels in America, and thought him very partial to 
us. I replied that his partiality consists in detailing 
facts and statistics; and in permitting our public men to 
speak their own language ; and instead of speculating on 
our constitution and laws, had the candor to write them 
down. My opponent during the conversation, told a story 
from Mr Stuart of " the sheriff driver." He did not tell 
it fairly, and I set him right, much to his discomfiture. 

At Mr 's. During dinner the conversation turned 

on America, of which my host was an enthusiastic ad- 
mirer. He read much, and thought justly of us. He 
supported our cause with great energy against several 
gentlemen, assuring them that they knew nothing about 
America ; they judged of it by things at home. Some of 
them were evidently disposed to jest on the matter. 
" O ! no," said one, u we cannot take your profound 
philosophic view of the case ; you can read, but we can't, 
you know." " You mean don't," replied my friend, 
" and you never will go into detail about it, or compare 
the authors which have treated of America, with each 
other." " Ah ! come, now," said they, " you wish to put 
poor Britain down too low ! well, we '11 believe all you 
say of America, after you have spent a dozen years there, 
and especially if you return with a good round fortune." 
" Well," said my host, " you wait a little, and see. There 
never was a nation which made such unparalleled pro- 
gress ; towns, villages, and cities, springing up with most 



JOURNAL. 351 

surprising alacrity." I made a few remarks, though with 
moderation, on this subject. " Come, gentlemen," said 
my host, " I have to propose a toast. I am sure, though 
you are a little restless now and then on the subject, that 
you, as well as every enlightened Englishman, will re- 
ceive and respond to it with pleasure. You will have 
anticipated me, when I propose, the United States ! I 
feel that no words which I can employ, can do justice to 
the merits of that country, and to the sentiments with 
which I regard it." He then spoke of its schools, com- 
merce, laws, and liberty. He was occasionally interrupted 
by a " hear ! hear! " or by a good humored remark, as 
" come, come, where are you leaving Old England ! " I 
made a reply to my host's speech, which was very favor- 
ably received. I alluded to the good feeling which was 
beginning to subsist between the two countries ; to the 
influence a reduction of tariff would exert in binding the 
two countries more closely together ; to certain resem- 
blances, as in laws, education, common language, and 
common religion. After dinner, one of the gentlemen, a 
merchant who had lived long in Liverpool, spoke very 
highly of the Americans whom he had met with there. 

March 1. At Dr Chalmers'. The Doctor cannot 
conceive how a country can do without an Established 
Church. On this subject we have to keep clear of each 
other. It is at present the great matter of debate and 
controversy. Society, indeed, stands separated here 
into two great factions. The one party rallies round 
what they consider the venerable and well tried institu- 
tions of the land, the other demands a reform, extending 
through all the range of abuse, venality, and intoleration. 
The church, even in Scotland, comes in for a large share 
of the contest. Every weapon is used by the two parties, 
which ridicule, argument, or sophistry, experience or 



352 JOURNAL. 

religion can supply. Many of them you will naturally 
suppose to be crude enough, at least to one acquainted 
with the prosperous state of the church in America. But 
the Establishment party cannot, or will not hear anything 
of all this. They are making the most desperate efforts 
against innovation. Perhaps they will succeed for a few 
years, but no question can be had, as to the ultimate issue 
of the contest. In the midst of their troubles, of reform 
on the one side, and Ireland on the other, the unhappy 
disaffection which the tariff has occasioned in America, 
becomes a subject of no little interest. The Tories 
triumph in it, as the volcano that is to burst with awful 
ruin on the land ; the Whigs regard it with no little dis- 
may, trembling, lest their brightening anticipations should 
be defeated, when the scenes to which they have looked 
with delight, as opening up new hopes to liberty and 
man, begin to present the fatal aspect of discord and 
passion ; the fields to bristle with arms and blacken with 
cannon, and the first deep defiance against law and 
justice utter its voice. It comes like the hoarse roll of 
bursting thunder across the Atlantic, that the constitution 
has received a shock, that dark treason is abroad upon 
the land, and that it stalks unpunished beneath the illu- 
minated vault of heaven. This must not be. The con- 
stitution must be held sacred. The law must, I am 
persuaded will remain inviolable. I am convinced that 
Christians do not pray enough for our magistrates and 
legislators, and for those who preside over us. They 
may cry church and state, and what they choose, but it 
is the duty of every clergyman and Christian to pray that 
those who occupy the high places in our government 
may be men of intelligence, moral honesty, and piety ; 
endued with the fear of God, and having no other fear. 
The Doctor expressed himself strongly on the impor- 



JOURNAL. 353 

tance of " Fellowships," in the Scotch Universities, 
when these were well bestowed ; the laughable nature 
of some of these in the Universities of their sister king- 
dom, especially of the warden of Cambridge, who has 
his coach and four, with butter and bread, and beer, " to 
his fall," and nothing to do. " Now these I would have 
well guarded," said the Doctor, " so that they should 
fall to men of genius and acquirement. This would 
place them on an easy and respectable vantage ground, 
where they could exercise their abilities without being 
hampered with professional duties; I would have them 
fixed in a happy retirement where their literary labors 
should be uninterrupted in the course most peculiar to 
their genius." Illustrated it by the case of Adam Smith, 
&c. " He was rewarded. But how ? He was set to 
work his weary pen over the common concerns of cus- 
tom house clerkship. Thus his talents were frittered 
away, and the splendid work which he had proposed to 
perform lost to the world forever." 

April 1. At ten, P. M., in company with Dr W. 
visited Professor Wilson. We did not expect to meet 
company, but found a iew gentlemen of the literary world 
present. On entering an elegant parlor as the servant 
announced us, Professor Wilson in a dashy pair of black 
breeches; and silks, came forward and politely received 
us. W 7 e were soon engaged in a conversation on Amer- 
ican habits, arts, literature, &c, all of us laughing 
heartily at the silliness of Mrs Trollope's book, which 
had just appeared. On looking round the room my eye 
was attracted by three females. The eldest was fair and 
winning. Her light auburn hair which on the top of 
her head was tastefully thrown over her comb, fell in 
playful ringlets on the side of her round and high ivory 
forehead, being held by a delicate white necklace. Her 
30* 



354 JOURNAL. 

hazle eyes were liquid, expressive and restless, at times 
flashing, at times pensive. Her small ruby lips played 
sweetly over fine set and most exquisitely shaped ivory 
teeth. Around her neck was a black fur tippet, and 
many rings with their gems sparkled on her fingers. 
Her full rich voice was rising to its highest swell when 
we entered, nor did it sound less sweetly as she contin- 
ued to charm us with a number of fine pieces. Her 
execution was more graceful than that of any lady I 
have seen in Scotland. The second daughter with less 
of the art has more of the life of beauty. She is the 
counterpart of some of her father's beautiful descrip- 
tions. Her features were more regular than those of her 
sister, and more overspread with the rich crimson of 
health and feeling. Her eyes and hair also were darker, 
her smile warmer, and her style of beauty on the whole 
more attractive. As her form was uncommonly fine and 
her hand very delicate, she made a most beautiful 
display at the harp in two or three splendid executions. 
The youngest was a bud, bright and beautiful, just 
expanding its tender leaves, then in the midst of hap- 
piness, and buoyancy, and hope. O ! may no rude 
wind ever ruffle it. Her features were those of 
her elder sister, though time is necessary to mature 
them : she was most lovely. At about eleven the 
bell rang for supper. Winding down the hall stairs 
we entered the supper room, enfilading off to the 
one side and the other of the generously and taste- 
fully spread table. On sitting down W. observed, " I 
believe, Mr M., that you have not this pleasant and 
friendly meal in America." I remarked, not so generally 
as in Scotland, but it was by no means unusual, and 
when it was the case, the outspreading of the one resem- 
bled very much the brilliancy and promise of the other. 



JOURNAL. 355 

As coveys of pheasants and quails were flying over the 
table, veal cutlets, and tongue, jellies and tarts spreading 
out their varied attractions, the conversation was of that 
broken and pleasant kind, with which well bred and 
lively companions, side by side, diversify the vulgari- 
ties of eating ; indeed by which they contrive to throw 
a very charm over the exercise. After the fierce hos- 
tility of appetite had ceased, the conversation became 
somewhat more general, until nuts having been cracked 
and toddy introduced, the gentlemen and ladies began 
to favor the company with songs. Mr Power, a novelist 
and comedian, sang with great wit. W. did not sing 3 
but remarked that he was always a most attentive listen- 
er. The hours went swiftly off, so that it was after two 
when the company rose to depart. Before going I told 
Miss Wilson how r much I should value a piece of her 
father's hand writing. " O ! enough of that is here I 
dare say ; Mamma, what shall I get?" " Oh, go to his 
study and bring something from his table. I wish you 
had suggested it before, and he would have written 
something original. But stop till tomorrow and you 
shall have something. Where shall we send it?" I 
regretted that I was to leave so early as to deprive me 
of that honor. Miss Wilson immediately ran up stairs 
and brought down two of the original manuscripts of the 
last " Noctes Ambrosianee," which of course I received 
with suitable thanks. By the way, I told Mrs Wilson, 
which not a little pleased her, (what indeed I had felt the 
truth of all the evening,) that " in enjoying the happiness 
of meeting their pleasant family circle I was introduced 
into the secret and the source of much of her husband's 
poetry and feeling, and wondered, not so much, though 
I admired the more, the creations which had delighted 
for years the literary world." Wilson having entered 



356 JOURNAL. 

from the entry expressed the pleasure which he felt in 
the acquaintance, regretted its briefness, and that if I 
would write him from London he would give me a good 
long letter in return. The streets were solitary as I 
passed through them for my room, for the last time. 
There was something very melancholy in my feelings as I 
passed through the silent but splendidly lighted streets, 
meeting here and there vigilant watchmen, or under some, 
lamp post the sad, forlorn and miserable ruin of what 
was once female innocence, virtue and loveliness. 

[The subject of this memoir upon his return to Edinburgh 
remained there until April 2, when he left for Liverpool, by 
the way of the Lakes, where he met with a kind reception 
from Mr Wordsworth, Mr Southey, and Major Hamilton, 
(author of Men and Manners in America,) and others, to whom 
the politeness of his Scottish friends had introduced him. 
Of this tour the editor has found but a very brief account. 
We extract from it a short sketch of an interview between the 
journalist and the two former gentlemen, at the residence 
of Mr Southey.] 

April 9. Visited Mr Southey at Derwentwater. I 
had scarcely touched the bell, before Mr Southey him- 
self came to the door, and ushered me into the library. 
Mr Wordsworth and his son were there. Mr S. took me 
by the hand and put the little piece of poetry in it 
which he had promised me the night before. Mr W. 
then said, " You are from Boston ; you know some of 

my friends there, Professor T r, &c." " Yes/' 

said Mr S., "we 're well acquainted with Boston, but 
we '11 not fly there in the revolution ; no, we '11 stand by 
the interests of our country to the last." " I hope, 
however," said I, " your prospects are not so dark as to 



JOURNAL. 357 

demand that alternative, to fight or fly. Is there not 
sufficient conservative spirit abroad V' " I hope so, but 
could things be worse than they are ? See the present 
ministry — reckless of everything — pushing everything 
to the crisis. Men at war with lords, commons, rights 
of property, in short with everything that conflicts with 
their own interest, without principle." S. " Rather act- 
ing with sustained bad principles." W. li Do you know, 

by the way, Professor Mc , of N. York ?" M. " By 

reputation only ; he has high respect with us." S. " De- 
servedly so." W. " Yes, I hold him in high esteem — 
his political opinions are most valuable. I have scarce 
ever met with a person whose views were so judicious 
and sagacious. I had much conversation with him. 
He understands the policy of England well. He wrote 
me a very interesting letter before he sailed, in which 
he spoke of the condition of England and his own happy 
country." S. " Ah ! but the elements of disorganization 
are not at work here alone. The spirit of Democracy 
I fear will at length run to its worst, and most unman- 
ageable form with you." 31. " Perhaps so; the elements 
of evil are fast accumulating in the West; the vagrants 
of continental Europe are fixing themselves there ; the 
venturous, the wild, and the profligate of the East are 
pouring into those forests ; without the kindly influences 
of religion and education they are rapidly accumulating ; 
long lines of forest are laid prostrate, and these rude 
elements are gradually settling into thicker masses. 
When time has compacted these fierce materials closer, 
if all does not redden into fire and blaze into a volcano, 
it will be because religion and intelligence have reached 
every hamlet to diffuse their blessed harmony." W. 
" Under any circumstances, I think you must divide ; 
the country is so wide, and has not external foes to 



358 JOURNAL. 

force it to a centre. There never was a country 
without enemies, that did not break into parts; it was 
so with Rome. We also will lose our colonies, and 
Ireland perhaps will be dismembered, then forced in upon 
ourselves. I think we shall better maintain our dignity 
than ever, when our affairs are few with the world, and 
we stand in our own power and dignity." S. " Yes, nor 
do I think you will be worse for it, your country is so 
wide." M. " I trust that dismemberment, if it come at 
all, will not come for many vears. At present, notwith- 
standing the affairs of South Carolina, the feeling is 
strongly against it. The individual restraints are few, 
yet I conceive that there are many influences which 
will bind society to order in their present condition 
for a period, at least. Yet if the change which you 
speak of should occur, it would be a division of the 
country into three parts, with the same government as 
at present, certainly in two of them. But I should rather 
fear from the turbulence of an ungovernable democracy, 
if it comes ever to that fearful height, the rise of an 
unflinching, cruel, but wily despotism, and then perhaps 
a series of anarchies, terminating in a government some- 
thing like the present, adapted to the contingencies of 
things." We conversed also on the poor laws, and had 
a long conversation on the present state of England ; 
downward tendency of present changes ; power of the 
conservative principle if brought out. 

[Henry immediately proceeded to Liverpool, where he re- 
mained but a few days, and embarked for home in the ship 
Grafton, on the 22d of April, and arrived at New York, June 
9th, 1833. He was then in excellent health, and most 
eager to enter upon the sacred duties of his profession, but 



JOURNAL. 359 

God had ordered otherwise, and in less than three months he 
was laid in Mount Auburn. We conclude the Journal with 
a brief extract from his record of the voyage.] 

April 25. For a few days the wind has been more 
favorable, and we have left the British coast behind and 
are upon the wide Atlantic. For some days there has 
been as usual much sickness on board. Yesterday 
morning however we were informed of the death of a 
child. I visited the steerage once or twice during the 
day, and prayed with the parents, and communicated all 
the consolation in my power ; I saw also that suitable 
arrangements were made for its burial. Today at eleven, 
after having conversed with the parents, I read the 
English burial service, and the body was committed to 
the mighty deep until the day when the grave and sea 
shall give up their dead. The day was mild and ac- 
companied with but little wind, and therefore favorable 
for the solemn performance of the ceremonies. There 
were about one hundred on deck ; a crowd also were 
grouped beneath the hatch over which I stood. A re- 
spectful silence prevailed. When the services com- 
menced, all hats were removed, and a deep solemnity 
was fixed on every countenance. The mother lay in 
tears in her berth; the father could scarce repress his 
anguish, and I felt all the agony of his grief, as I pro- 
nounced the solemn words which accompanied the body 
into the pathless deep. Even the hardy sailors were 
moved. The deck has been more silent today than 
usual. Have thought much of home this day. 



ADDRESS. 



[We have kindly been permitted to insert here the fol- 
lowing Address, delivered at Mount Auburn, at the inter- 
ment of Henry, by the Rev. Dr Cod man, of Dorchester.] 

We have assembled, my friends, to pay a tribute of respect 
to the memory of Henry B. McLellan, a name peculiarly 
dear to many whom I address, and which will be embalmed 
in their recollection as long as the power of reminiscence 
continues. 

Seldom do we witness a more striking instance of the 
disappointment of human expectation, than in the affecting 
event which has convened us together. Our young friend 
had just completed his preparation for the sacred ministry. 
In yonder academic halls he pursued his classical course in 
company with his youthful associates, to whom he greatly 
endeared himself by his affectionate and social disposition, — 
his bland and winning manners, — his kind and courteous 
address. The presence of several of them on this occasion, 
and their grief at his premature removal, testify to his un- 
blemished reputation, and the strong hold he retained on their 
affections. Having finished his academic course, he made 
choice of the christian ministry, as the profession to which 
he intended to devote his future life. With a view to 
more extensive usefulness he left his native land, and de- 
voted the last two years of his life to theological studies, 
principally in Edinburgh, under the guidance and direction of 
that distinguished man and powerful preacher, Dr Chalmers. 
31 



362 ADDRESS. 

A few months since he returned to his native country in 
perfect health and with the most flattering prospects of future 
usefulness. He was on the point of offering himself for 
license to preach the gospel at an association of ministers, 
which assembled in Cambridge, a few weeks since, when he 
was seized with that fatal illness, which terminated his mortal 
career and his earthly prospects. 

Mysterious Heaven ! how unsearchable are thy judgments 
and thy ways past finding out ! To us, short sighted mortals, 
the life of our young friend appeared peculiarly desirable. 
We had fondly anticipated that he would be eminently useful 
in the Church of Christ. But God's ways are not as our 
ways. He had other employment for him in the world of 
spirits, and he has called him home in the morning, and saved 
him from the heat and burden of the day. Even so, Father, 
for so it seemed good in thy sight ! 

But, though the expectations of his numerous and strongly 
attached friends are thus disappointed, they have rich 
consolation in his death. His christian character, to those 
who knew him best, was most satisfactory. We have rea- 
son to believe that he lived very near to God, and enjoyed 
much of his presence and the consolations of his spirit. He 
had the confidence of many highly esteemed christian friends, 
with whom he delighted to associate, and to mingle his sup- 
plications with theirs at the throne of grace. He was 
peculiarly formed for the endearments of friendship ; and his 
friends were not confined to his own family, nor to his own 
land. Wherever he went, he made friends, and he has left 
many on the other side of the Atlantic, who will deeply 
mourn his early exit. 

I have had occasion to know much of the interest 
he excited in many highly esteemed and beloved friends 
during his short residence abroad. Letters, which I have 
received from much valued correspondents, breathe the 
most ardent and affectionate interest in the welfare of 
our departed young fnend. If he was so valued by those, 
who were comparatively strangers to him, how will his loss be 
felt by those who have known him from his infancy, — by his 



ADDRESS. 363 

venerated parents, who have expected much satisfaction from 
his increasing usefulness in the ministry of reconciliation, — by 
his brothers and sisters, to whom he was greatly endeared, 
— by his early associates, who have been called to part 
with a pleasant companion and warm hearted friend, — by 
his christian brethren, with whom he delighted to go to 
the house of God in company ? Their loss is indeed great, 
but their consolations are also great. They sorrow not as 
those without hope. 

Although the nature of his disease precluded that sat- 
isfaction which is often experienced by religious conver- 
sation in sickness, his previous life is the best ground of 
evidence of preparation for death ; and this evidence the 
friends of the departed have in no ordinary degree. — 
Dry up your tears then, my respected and beloved friends. 
Weep not for him, for he is tuning his golden harp to the 
praises of redeeming love in heaven. Be thankful, christian 
parents, that you have had such a son, and that he has ripened 
so soon for heaven. 

" Ye would have sought your offspring 1 dear 
A station in a temple here ; 
But Jesus' love prepared a place 
Where he beholds him face to face. 

" Cease then to mourn his early doom, 
Nor wish him rescued from the tomb 5 
For lo • to yonder courts of light, 
His seraph soul has winged its flight. 

" Rest on the Saviour's promise still, 
And, tarrying, wait his gracious will 5 
Ere long a voice shall bid you come, 
And Henry breathe your welcome home." 

Let his pious example induce all the members of the do- 
mestic circle to be followers of him, as he was of Christ. 
May the breach, which has been made upon a numerous and 
united family by sundering the fraternal tie, be sanctified, 
especially to those members of it, who are just entering upon 
life, with raised expectations of future usefulness and hap- 
piness. 



364 



ADDRESS. 



The associates of my young friend, especially those who 
have passed with him through the interesting period of college 
life, will accept my sincere sympathy under this affecting 
bereavement. I am well aware of the strong attachments that 
are formed on this classic ground. The lapse of thirty years 
has not weakened my own impression of the strength of this 
attachment ; and the scenes, by which we are here surrounded, 
are as vivid ;n my recollection as they were when, with the 
friends of my youth, we delighted to ramble in these shady 
groves, which we then little thought would become the resting 
place for the ashes of the dead. 

But this quiet retreat, this scene of our youthful mus- 
ings, this resort of our leisure hours is well appropriated. 
Here, as time revolves, when we visit this consecrated 
asylum of the dead, and perambulate these lovely woods, 
and stroll along the paths, endeared to us by so many 
youthful associations, we may pause at the simple mon- 
ument that records the name of a beloved classmate, and 
drop a tear over his tomb. This sad privilege will you 
enjoy, my young friends, as the endeared name of Henry 
meets your eye, in your visits to this field of graves. 

But while you are thus reminded of the friend of your youth, 
and of those days of literary pursuit and social intercourse 
with which his name is so ciosely associated, lee me urge you 
to regard with special interest, that holy principle of divine 
grace which made him what he was, — which sanctified his 
naturally amiable temper, — which restrained him from youth- 
ful levity, — which excited in him such an interest for the 
welfare and happiness of others, and which led him in the 
bloom of his youth to consecrate himself to the service of 
God in the ministry of his Son. It was religion, that con- 
stituted the charm of his character; that procured him so 
many attached and faithful friends ; that brightened his short 
course through this vale of tears ; that prepared him for his 
early departure and ripened him for immortality. His re- 
ligion was not speculative and controversial. It was deep, 
experimental and practical. He learned it, not from the 






ADDRESS. 385 

schools and the commandments of fallible men, but at the 
cross of Christ 

" He came to the cross, when his young- cheek was blooming, 
And raised to the Lord the bright glance of his eye, 

And when o'er its beauty death's darkness was glooming, 
The cross did uphold him, the Saviour was nigh." 

If then, my young friends, you would imbibe his spirit and 
imitate his example, let me direct you to the cross of Christ, 
to that precious Saviour, who died that you might live. It 
was faith in his atoning blood, and the renewing and sancti- 
fying influences of the Holy Spirit that prepared our young 
friend for heaven. Be persuaded to trust in the same vicarious 
sacrifice, and to seek the same gracious influences, that you 
may be prepared to join his immortal spirit in that bright and 
happy world where you will part no more. 

My hearers, how solemn and affecting is the scene we are 
this day called, in the providence of God, to witness ! We 
have seen a young man of promising talents, of the most 
amiable disposition, of unquestioned piety, surrounded by 
everything that could make life desirable, with the most 
flattering prospects, cut down like the flower of the field, and 
consigned to the narrow house appointed for all the living. 
What is our life ? It is a vapor, that appeareth for a little 
time and then vanisheth away. Lord, make us to know our 
end, and the measure of our days, what it is, that we may 
know how frail we are ! So teach us to number our days 
that we may incline our hearts unto wisdom ! 



3t* 



SERMON 



[We have also been permitted to make the following 
fine extract from the funeral sermon preached by the Rev. 
Mr Winslow, of this city, on the Sabbath succeeding 
Henry's death.] 

J. Cor. xv. 56, 57. — The sting of death is sin, and the 
strength of sin is the law ; but thanks be to God who giveth us 
the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. 

The mortality of man has ever attracted a strong and 
melancholy interest. It is a subject on which every man is 
compelled to think and to feel. Hence genius of every name 
has brought to it an offering. Poetry has sung it ; philosophy 
has bestowed her profoundest speculations upon it ; religion 
has discoursed upon its design ; while all the discovered 
powers of medical science have industriously arrayed them- 
selves against the approach of the king of terrors. Religion 
can divest him of his frightfulness, and the healing art can 
sometimes retard his step ; but his are eventually all the 
living, by a law as immutable as that which rolls the spheres 
in their orbits. 

" Death, great proprietor of all, 
; T is thine to tread out empire and to quench the stars." % 

The sting of death is sin ; and among the secondary causes 
through which it becomes to us an object of dread, are the 
following. 

1. It is an appalling physical change. Behold that lifeless 
form ! Those lips, which once addressed us, are sealed in 



SERMON. 367 

silence; that countenance, which beamed upon us with 
intelligence and cheerfulness, is fixed and ghastly ; the celes- 
tial fire, which kindled in those eyes, is extinguished ; and 
the whole body, once instinct with life, is become cold, pale, 
inanimate as marble. The too frightful spectacle for human 
sight will soon follow, — " The worm is spread under thee, 
and the worms cover thee." 

2. It intercepts all intercourse of the minds of the living 
with those of the dead. When our friends embark on a 
distant voyage, though our bodies be separated, our minds 
still commune together by epistolary correspondence ; but no 
friendly epistle ever reaches us from those who have gone 
forth upon the returnless voyage of eternity. All move in 
one direction — onward — onward, — none return. We read 
of one who, not permitted to return himself, desired to send 
a message back to his former friends in this world, but was 
refused even that; — and frequently do the living desire to 
communicate with the souls of the dead, but the desire is 
never gratified, excepting in the reveries of a distempered 
imagination. 

3. It separates its subject from all the sources of worldly 
happiness. Is his heart given to the pleasures of sensuality ? 
They must perish with the body. To the ambitious distinc- 
tions of society ? These must be buried in the grave. To 
the pleasures of domestic life without religion ? Even the 
sweetest cup of earthly bliss is dashed and broken by the 
stroke of death. Unless the heart possess a treasure not of 
this world, it is then lost to happiness forever. 

4. It introduces him to the final decision of God's righteous 
judgment " It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the 
living God." The reasons why this fearfulness is not felt by 
all irreligious persons on the approach of death, are, some are 
stupified by sin ; others exhausted by disease ; others under 
the influence of medicine; others unapprised of their ap- 
proaching end ; others given over to strong delusions. 

In some pagan countries, it is a capital crime to speak of 
death in the presence of the king. In some nations of cor- 
rupted Christianity, it is considered a mark of ill breeding to 



363 



SERMON. 



speak of it in refined society. And even where a purer faith 
prevails, there are not wanting some, who think it needful to 
invest it with an air of romance, disabuse the current senti- 
ment of mankind, instruct the experience of all ages, and 
persuade us that to die is but a philosophical and harmless 
event. What is all this but laughing at our calamity, and 
mocking when our fear cometh ? We would neither have 
death kept out of our view, nor would we have it presented 
to us in any other than its real aspect. 

It is a truth that can never be successfully disguised, that 
there is a sting in death ; and that the sting of death is sin. 
Were it not for sin, its present circumstances of terror, if 
indeed it existed in any form, would be entirely alleviated or 
removed ; and our transition from time to eternity would be 
the happiest event of our existence. But ever since the 
apostacy of our race, God has intended for us a terrible 
death, as one of his mightiest scourges to bring us to reflec- 
tion, to repentance, to Christ. Without it, none would 
probably heed the calls of the gospel ; the whole human race 
would go down in a solid phalanx of sin to everlasting moral 
ruin. Just in the degree that you remove the natural sting of 
death, you diminish the moral power of the gospel over men. 
* # # # * # # 

Seldom has a church and congregation been more afflict- 
ively admonished than those I now address. But a few 
months since, you were called to part with an officer of this 
church, of distinguished excellence — one of the most brilliant 
lights of our common Zion. Since then, in addition to the 
removal of your beloved pastor by ill health, and the death of 
other valued members of your church, the Destroyer has fallen 
on him, whose decease is the occasion of this discourse ; one 
who was not only clear to his family, to his numerous friends, 
to this church, to all who knew him, — as a child, a brother, a 
Christian, a friend, but who was soon to have become pecu- 
liarly dear to the eternal interests of mankind as a public 
ambassador of the christian salvation. 

I have thought it expedient on this occasion to expose 
some of the appalling aspects of death, in order to enhance 



SERMON. 369 

our valuation of the gospel, which, in the case of our departed 
friend, has displayed its benign power over this enemy of all 
the living, and secured a triumph over the grave, by bringing 
life and immortality to light. 

The present is an instance of peculiar intensity, beyond 
that of the ordinary stroke of death, arising from the distin- 
guished value of the subject on which it has fallen. It is a 
striking illustration of the sentiment so often repeated because 
so true, 

" Death loves a shining- mark." 

The earthly career of our lamented friend was short, but 
beautiful and bright. Even in his childhood, so correct and 
amiable was his domestic character, that he never inflicted a 
wound upon his indulgent parents ; what cannot probably be 
said of one child in a thousand. Besides his circle of ac- 
quaintances in this city, as he passed the several stages of his 
education, from the school to the university, and through that 
institution to the theological seminary, he of course became 
intimately known to many others capable of appreciating not 
only the infant germs, but maturing growth, of intellectual 
and moral worth ; and was known by all only to be loved 
and esteemed. 

Soon after the close of his collegiate studies, he became 
personally interested in religion, entertaining hope of pardon 
and of reconciliation to God through Jesus Christ. From 
that time he consecrated himself to the profession of the 
christian ministry. Before completing his theological studies 
in Andover, it was judged expedient that he should visit 
Europe, to enjoy the advantage of the older seminaries, 
and to enlarge his mind with a general knowledge of the 
institutions, manners and spirit of the old world. 

He remained in Europe about two years, pursuing those 
studies which might tend to enlighten and liberalize his mind 
on the subjects of his contemplated profession, and visiting its 
most important seats of learning, and scenes of profitable 
interest. 

During his residence in Europe he secured an affectionate 
interest in meiiy valuable friends, from whom he received 



370 SERMON. 

those kind attentions so grateful to a stranger's heart; for 
which the gratitude of parents and other relatives will long 
survive. Every successive journal and letter received from 
him by his parents during his residence in Europe indicated 
the progress of his mind, the growth of his piety, and the dil- 
igence with which he was pressing towards his contemplated 
profession ; making all his acquisitions subservient to that 
object. After an absence of two years he returned to 
America. 

Parental hopes were most fully realized. He was appa- 
rently in perfect health ; his intellectual powers were rising 
and developing themselves with high promise ; his christian 
character was maturing with uncommon symmetry and 
completeness ; he had arrived at the confines of his antici- 
pated profession ; all things conspired to promise in him a 
long life of eminent usefulness. How clear was the sky, and 
how bright the sun of that family for a few days. But oh ! 
what uncertainty attends all terrestrial prospects. Scarcely 
were the congratulations of meeting over, and the pleasurable 
emotions arising from dangers passed and hope secured fully 
experienced, when the grave opened upon him, and buried 
every prospect as in a moment. Lord, what is man ! Surely 
at his best state he is altogether vanity. He cometh forth like 
a flower, and is cut down ; he fleeth also as a shadow, and 
continueth not. 

For the sake of our departed friend, we certainly cannot 
mourn. The faith which he had secured in life sustained 
him in death, and ministered unto him abundantly an en- 
trance into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and Saviour 
Jesus Christ. We have the best of evidence for believing, 
that he is now ranging the blest fields of eternity in the like- 
ness of Christ, and awaking his immortal powers to more 
exalted joys and duties than earth affords. His body also 
rests in hope. Peaceful be its slumbers in yonder Mount 
Auburn, till the resurrection morning shall break upon the 
world, and all that are in their graves shall hear the voice of 
the Son of God, and shall come forth. Then will his corrupt- 
ible put on incorruption, and his mortal put on immortality. 



SERMON. 371 

To the bereaved family the affliction is almost over- 
whelming. But the same grace which sustained the dying, 
cau also sustain and bless the living. The Lord hath done it, 
and never is he more ready to bestow the abundant blessings 
of his grace than when the rod of affliction is heavy upon us. 
Then is pre-eminently the time when his providence is calling 
us, severely and urgently, yet mercifully, to himself. In this 
hour of your affliction, may the language of your hearts be, 
" Come, and let us return unto the Lord ; for he hath torn and 
he will heal us, he hath smitten and he will bind us up." 

What glory beams in the gospel ; and what necessity 
urges its acceptance upon us. Some of you, my dear friends, 
have already realized its benign influence upon your souls. 
May the same be realized unto you all, and unto all the 
bereaved friends of the deceased, out of this affliction. The 
gospel is the only antidote to death's sting ; the only true 
victory over the grave. In the elegant language of Sir 
Humphry Davy, it "makes discipline of goodness, creates 
new hopes where earthly hopes vanish, and throws over the 
decay, the^destruction of existence, the most gorgeous of all 
lights ; awakens life in death ; and from corruption and 
decay calls up beauty and divinity ; makes an instrument of 
torture and shame, the ladder of ascent to Paradise ; and far 
above all combinations of earthly hopes calls up the most 
delightful visions of palms and amaranths, the gardens of the 
blessed, the security of everlasting joys, where the sensualist 
and the skeptic view only gloom, decay, annihilation and 
despair." 

No sooner do we receive the gospel in all its fulness, and 
obey it in all its commands, than the terrors of death are 
vanished ; its sting is removed, its gloom dispelled ; serene 
prospects open before us into eternity ; glorious and immortal 
life become ours. Death is swallowed up in victory ; O 
death, where is thy sting ? O grave, where is thy victory ? 
Thanks be to God who giveth us the victory, through our 
Lord Jesus Christ ! 



LETTERS. 



[A number of letters from various quarters, have been 
received by the friends of Henry, since his death, from a few 
of which we make extracts, believing they will not be unin- 
teresting. The first we give is a letter from the Rev. Dr 
Chalmers, of Edinburgh.] 

Edinburgh, October 17, 1833. 

Mr dear Madam — Your affecting message was conveyed 
to me by Dr Dickson, and has awakened very deep emotion 
both in my own heart, and in the members of my family. Your 
estimable son was one of our most interesting visiters ; and 
was very much valued by us all, both for his intelligence and 
the soundness of his principles. We feel the greatness of your 
bereavement, and cannot but regard it as a most trembling 
demonstration of this world's vanity, that one so full of vigor 
and of promise is cut down in the flower of his age, and 
removed so suddenly from the busy haunts and occupations 
of living men. To you the chief alleviation of this heavy 
blow must be the recollection of his faith and devoted piety ; 
and the well grounded hope of that better world, where sin, 
and sorrow, and separation are unknown. 

It is my earnest prayer that your faith and fortitude 
may not fail in this hour of dark and distressful visit- 
ation ; and that as the earthly props give way under you, 
you may lean the whole weight of your dependence on 
Him who is the friend and comforter of the childless. 
He is often dark and mysterious in his dealings with the 



LETTERS. 373 

children of men. Yet though clouds and darkness are round 
about him, there is wisdom in all his ways and kindness in 
all his visitations. 

May you have great peace and joy in believing ; may you 
have the blessedness of that heart which is stayed upon God. 
May you richly experience the succor of that merciful High 
Priest who is touched with the fellow feeling of our infirmi- 
ties; and who makes our sorrows his own. His blood 
cleanseth from all sin ; and he is able and willing to save you 
to the uttermost. 

Mrs Chalmers and my daughters join their affectionate 
condolence with my own, on this truly mournful occasion. 
I am ever, my dear Madam, 

Yours most respectfully and sincerely, 

Thomas Chalmers. 

The letter which follows, is from the pen of a lady in 
Edinburgh, to whom Henry was deservedly attached, and 
who ever treated him with the fondness of a mother. Its 
beautiful and affecting language could only proceed from the 
kindest heart, and the most profound sorrow. It was ad- 
dressed to his mother. 

Edinburgh, November 8, 1833. 
" My very dear Friend, — It was with the deepest sorrow 
I received the afflicting intelligence of your beloved son's 
death. No one can enter more fully into your feelings under 
such a bereavement than I now do. Having laid six too dearly 
loved children in the silent tomb, I can from sad experience 
sympathise with those who are called, by a God of infinite 
wisdom, to endure such bereavements. How much deeper 
then is my sympathy with the parents of my much loved 
Henry. Yes — he rilled a place in my affections I do now 
believe God purposes should not be filled by any creature 
living. His language to his children is, i From all these 
idols I will cleanse thee.' How often has this been addressed 
to me, and yet I have too often forgotten it. Your loss, 
32 



374 LETTEKS. 

my dear Mrs M. can scarcely be estimated, for in Henry you 
have not only lost a dear affectionate son, but one who, had 
he been spared, would have been the solace of your future 
pilgrimage in this vale of tears ; guiding and instructing you 
by the heavenly wisdom with which his mind was so fully 
stored. Few, very few at so early a period of life, attain to 
such lofty, heaven born ideas as he was possessed of, but he 
was as we have seen only fully ripened for that glorious eter- 
nity, where he dwells with his Saviour, he so much loved 
while on earth, and for serving and enjoying him through the 
endless ages of eternity, and where we shall meet him, and 
all we love (if they are the children of God) never more 
to separate. 

" Your letter I received the end of October, and how shall 
I ever thank you for such kindness, in writing to me, when 
you were so unwell and also little inclined to any such exer- 
tion. I could not have expected you to write so soon, although 
I did long to hear the particulars of your dear, dear, too 
dear Henry's death. Oh that I could have seen him, and yet 
I may almost say I was with him, for on the morning that his 
immortal spirit fled from its clay tabernacle, I awoke with the 
impression that I had witnessed as I thought in my sleep, the 
dying scene of my own dear son, whose loss I was mourning 
when I first became acquainted with much loved Henry. All 
that day I was very sorrowful, even at times to the shedding 
of tears. I did then even weep with you on that solemn day. 
You say had my sisters and I known his situation, our prayers 
would have been offered for him. Yes, my dear MrsM. they 
would indeed have been earnestly presented to him with whom 
are the issues of life and death. My prayers, feeble and 
unworthy as they are, were, long before he himself asked an 
interest in them, daily put up for him at that throne of grace, 
where no one who asks sincerely, and in submission to Di- 
vine Will, can ever fail in receiving all that God, who knows 
our wants and circumstances, sees good for us. My anxiety 
about Henry was very great all the time of his illness ; he 
was so much on my mind that I frequently asked myself 
why I was more anxious about Henry than about my son, 



LETTERS. 375 

who was frequently from home during the summer; and 
more extraordinary still, that after the time of his death my 
anxiety ceased, my prayers were not as they were wont to be, 
earnest, and as frequently presented at each season set apart 
for prayer, for him, as for any one of my own family. I can 
scarcely describe my feelings, when I frequently would have 
risen from my devotions without once remembering Henry. I 
then would have knelt down again, but my prayers were re- 
strained ; I could ask nothing for him, but that I might soon 
hear from him. About you and your husband I feel more 
than ordinary solicitude. I did then ask myself, why do I 
feel less interested in Henry ; is it possible I can love him 
with less affection than formerly. I feel humbled in the dust 
that I, so unworthy, should have ever been permitted to pray 
for one so heaven born as your Henry. Precious were his 
prayers to me ; his expressions were truly divine ; his lan- 
guage was the language of heaven. 

"E. S. T." 

The passage which follows, is extracted from a letter from 
the Rev. Alexander Urquhart, formerly of Edinburgh, but 
now a resident of this city, between whom and Henry there 
existed a close intimacy. 

" By the motives, precepts, and promises of religion, Henry 
was invariably governed. Habitual, firmly seated, masculine 
piety seemed to be 'the vital root of his character. This 
leading principle influenced every movement and feature of 
his career in life. Few had a keener relish than he for all 
that is ingenious, novel and dignified, the results of human 
labor and capability, and which he enjoyed so many rare op- 
portunities of witnessing ; but all that belonged to the arts 
and sciences, he viewed only as accessories to more spiritual 
and enduring gratifications. 

" All that the toil and dexterity of man could unfold of 
what is grand and beautiful and impressive, served but to fill 
his mind with pure and elevating musings concerning the 
infinitely great and glorious source of moral beauty and per- 
fection. Those who knew him best, can well recollect the 



376 



LINES. 



pleasure produced in his society from the graphic delineations 
of what he had seen and felt in foreign travel, and how un- 
constrainedly and instructively those delineations were made 
to bear on the mighty concerns of religious truth and mental 
amelioration. Yet although his whole soul was engaged in 
his sacred profession, and in the contemplation of future use- 
fulness, there was nothing shown in his manners of that 
official peculiarity, which so often proves offensive to men of 
taste, and so injurious to the real interests of religion. His 
spirit was too enlarged, and his views of life too maturely 
formed to aim at eccentric departure from the conventional 
rules of society. His wholesome experience in the analysis 
of worldly habits, would have enabled him, in the anticipated 
field of his ministerial labors, to exercise a most important 
influence over the minds of his flock. But alas ! that pastoral 
influence was never destined to impart its lustre and effect to 
the Church militant. The champion of truth was ready to 
enter the lists of mortal warfare, but a voice was heard sum- 
moning him away to the enjoyment of undisturbed and 
everlasting blessedness. He listened and obeyed." 

We close the volume with the insertion of the following 
beautiful elegiac lines, from the pen of Miss H. F. Gould, 
of Newburyport. They are marked with the pure thought 
and felicitous expression, which have rendered her poems so 
widely popular. She had no personal acquaintance with the 
subject of her verse. 

And may a stranger's trembling hand presume, 
Its humble wreath to twine upon the tomb 
To which McLellan's youthful form was borne, 
And not be deemed profane ; by those who mourn ? 

May now the eye that ne'er beheld his face, 
Seek out 7 and fall upon his resting-place, 
Where nature hangs the fragrant evergreen, 
To deck Mount Auburn's calm and holy scene ? 

Here by his tomb, a stranger, yet a friend, 
To read his name and age I pensive bend ! 



LINES. 

And o'er the part that is resigned to earth, 
Pay the soul's tribute to departed worth. 

Shall Science rue the deed that death has done, 
And here bemoan her lost beloved son, 
When he had gained the knowledge pure and high, 
To fit him long to live, or soon to die ? 

Shall Truth bewail her champion, when the Lord 
Gave his young soldier buckler, helm and sword, 
But took him ere he reached the field of strife, 
To bear the palm and wear the crown of life ? 

Shall Earth lament that he whose feet have prest 
Her many lands, is here so soon at rest, 
When through her distant windings called to roam, 
He still looked up and sought the spirit's home ? 

Parental fondness, and fraternal love, 

Weep they, that he is gone to taste above, 

The full fruition of his hopes of bliss 

Which from that world he drew to brighten this ? 

Yes ! they may weep j and Friendship shed her tears 
For one so ripe in worth, so young in years ! 
For, Jesus wept ! — and those who would pursue 
The path he trod below must sorrow too ! 

But though their eyes with nature's mists are dim, 
They soon shall brighten ; for they follow Him, 
Who to a glorious life the dead will raise, 
And on the lips now silent, perfect praise ! 

Then fare thee well, thou quiet, sacred spot I 
Farther " the stranger intermedclleth not/ 7 
With peace like thine ! Hence faith and hope shall rise 
Where all are known and kindred in the skies. 



377 



ERRATA. 

Ov/ing to the unfinished state of the manuscript, the following error* have 
occurred in the printing. 

Page 19, line 34 from top, fox grace read house. 

" " this read his. 

" " confirming read confessing. 

tl " ansirnum read ammtim. 

il " late read Zater. 

" " he read <A«. 

" " is at read ts not at. 

11 " speaking read speaJc. 

" " broken, read unbroken. 

" " e/read to. 



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